


The Atomic Cafe

by i_feel_electric



Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP - Fandom, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Boys on Bikes, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_feel_electric/pseuds/i_feel_electric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love. Coffee. Sex. Life. Awkwardness. Y'know, the usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Purgatory

 

Having not woken up earlier than one o'clock in the afternoon since he graduated from college, Jiyong struggled to care that he would probably be late on his first day of work. Mornings were not his best friend to say the least. In fact, he'd go so far as to label them estranged. After hitting the snooze button on his alarm for what felt like the fiftieth time, he decided that the need for money outweighed the need for sleep and clawed his way out of the warm cocoon that was his bed.

 

Jiyong robotically fumbled through his daily routine, twenty minutes in the shower doing very little damage to the thick fog clouding his brain. He really hoped it wasn't gonna be like this every goddamn day, that his body would choose benevolence and adjust to a new way of life that involved being conscious before the sun rose. With his luck, it would be months of terrorizing customers with zombie grunts and panda eyes. He sighed and guzzled down a scalding cup of black coffee, which was sort of amusing considering where he was going. Needless to say, a BA in Literature did not guarantee a bright future in today's workforce. So he'd moved back to the modest city he called home and found a job as a barista at a coffee shop across town. It was enough, for now. Jiyong wasn't too keen on evaluating his life goals at the present, perfectly content to exist as simply as possible until the desire for something  _more_  suckerpunched him in the gut. Well, if “simply” meant struggling to pay rent and eating instant ramen every night of the week. His parents lived about half an hour outside downtown, but he'd be damned if he moved in with them again. Talk about hammering that final nail into the coffin. There were only so many sacrifices he was willing to make, and his sanity was pretty important to him, so poverty would have to do.

 

Grabbing his backpack, he stepped out into the brightness of the early morning and unlocked his bike from the fence in front of his apartment building. Jiyong breathed deep, relishing the movement of his legs as they pumped the pedals, hurtling him forward along empty streets and over equally deserted bridges. Spring was in high gear, painting the city streets in a cacophony of color. It was like mother nature had vomited up a rainbow and suddenly there were flowers everywhere. He watched the light filter through the leaves of the trees as he sped in and out of still sleepy neighborhoods, wishing he was back in his bed buried underneath the covers.

 

Jiyong made it to the cafe in record time, the hands on his watch telling him he was only one minute late. Securing his bike to a pole, he moved to knock firmly on the front door. The manager who'd hired him said he'd be working with the other opener, a guy named Seunghyun or something. He figured the kid was a fellow Korean import, unless his parents had a particularly weird sense of humor. A few seconds later, the door popped open and a disembodied mop of black hair poked through the crack. Jiyong almost forgot how to breathe underneath the intense scrutiny of a pair of dark, mahogany eyes partially obscured by the fringe of messy bangs. For a long moment his world narrowed to their shared staring, perceived nothing but bottomless pools of rich brown, and fought the twitch in his fingers to brush the boy's hair from his face. The subtle movement of a thick, elegant eyebrow raising in question was enough to finally spur Jiyong into action.

 

“Uh, I'm the, uh, new hire,” he offered lamely and glanced down at his sneakered feet. “You must be Seunghyun.”

 

The boy nodded and swung the door out to let him in. Jiyong's arm accidentally brushed against his chest as he walked past, the shock of heat through his shirt an electric tidal wave. He gasped and rubbed absently at the point of contact. Turning the lock behind them, Seunghyun sauntered over to the counter like nothing had happened, hopping up on the wooden surface with book in hand. Jiyong's eyes were glued to his hips as he walked, to his long, long legs as they dangled. He found that he might be warming up to the idea of pre-dawn consciousness if it meant he got to feast his eyes on that ass every day of the week. 

 

Not entirely sure what he was supposed to do, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the shop and looked around. It was small, but cozy and thankfully lacked the bare-bones austerity that most independent coffee shops apparently thought was okay. Jiyong liked that this place had a quirky sort of character, caught somewhere between the 1950's and the present. An identity crisis he could support. His eyes trailed over the hodge-podge of art on the brightly painted walls.

 

“You've got experience, right?” The dark-haired boy's deep voice startled him, sent shivers down his spine.

 

“Experience?”

 

Seunghyun rolled his eyes and pointed at the giant, silver machine in front of him.

 

“Oh, yeah. I slung espresso all through college.”

 

“Great, then I don't need to train you.” Seunghyun sighed, face buried in his book. “We open in an hour. You can put your shit in the back room.”

 

He wondered if Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome was always like this, or if he'd simply caught him in a grumpy mood. Jiyong meandered into the back, checked his phone for messages, and tossed his bag in a corner before re-emerging to join the other boy behind the counter. He was still engrossed in whatever it was he was reading, hair falling into his face and obstructing the view of his alarmingly striking features. There was a pretty good chance the kid wasn't batting for his team in the first place, let alone even remotely interested, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the view.

 

“Is there any prep work that needs to be finished?” Jiyong asked, hesitant. 

 

“Already did it earlier this morning.” The boy continued to focus on his book.

 

“Seriously?” He gaped, eyes wide.

 

Seunghyun sighed again and spared Jiyong a single glance.

 

“I live upstairs. And sleep is for chumps.” 

 

Jiyong allowed himself a small smile, amused and intrigued by the tough, indifferent persona this guy was trying so hard to maintain. Obviously it was a bit early to make assumptions, but he'd bet money that Seunghyun was really just a huge softy underneath all the brooding. Jiyong spent the rest of the hour familiarizing himself with the layout before they opened for business. He tried really hard not to focus on the boy's constant presence behind him, the temptation to just sit and stare was so strong he needed the distraction. But he could always feel him, no matter where he was in the cafe. By the time Seunghyun unlocked the door and turned all the lights on, Jiyong was a bundle of raw energy. Between forcing himself  _not_  to lust after this strange, beautiful, enigmatic boy and psyching himself up for work he felt like he might explode. The two of them leaned against the back counter and waited for the morning rush to hit, Seunghyun with his arms crossed over his chest looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. 

 

Their first customer entered a few minutes later. With a slight jerk of his head, the dark-haired boy motioned for Jiyong to step up to the plate. He was sure this was a way for him to judge his skills and suddenly he felt more nervous than excited. The order was simple enough, a double-shot latte with whole milk. Seunghyun's eyes were on him the entire time, observing every tiny movement he made. His hands shook slightly when he steamed the milk and his heart pounded in his chest. Why was he so damn nervous? He'd done this a million times. As Jiyong shifted to pour the milk into the cup, the boy hovered over his shoulder to watch. Never in his life had he felt more pressure to execute a perfect example of latte art than in this moment. He took a deep breath and oh so carefully crafted the signature leaf shape he'd been taught years ago, drizzling the foam to create delicate lines and curves. Without waiting for approval, he handed the steaming cup over to the customer with a happy smile and went to clean up after himself.

 

Seunghyun cleared his throat, drawing Jiyong's attention. He gave him a sideways glance, wiping down the counter even though he didn't really need to, just wanted to keep his hands busy.

 

“You're good,” he said, holding Jiyong's gaze. The soft rumble of the boy's voice filled the small space of the cafe.

 

“Thank you...” Jiyong murmured, losing himself in those eyes again.

 

It felt like an eternity had passed before another customer came in, effectively destroying the weird, mostly wordless moment between them. The rest of the morning they barely spoke to one another. Once the flow of patrons had died down, Seunghyun returned to reading, leaving Jiyong to serve drinks on his own. Which was fine. But even the idle chatter of the few people who sat scattered on couches or at tables wasn't enough to drown the awkward tension that had somehow made its home behind the counter. When early afternoon hit, the shop was practically deserted and he found himself hunched over the register staring off into space. Jiyong's eyes roamed aimlessly until they landed on the boy perched next to the sink just a few feet away. He wasn't even doing anything particularly interesting and yet he was still so fucking sexy. The hem of Seunghyun's threadbare t-shirt was riding up in the back, revealing a tantalizing sliver of skin. That's when his mind took a turn for the lecherous. He bit his lip and imagined sliding his fingers along the edge of the boy's low-slung jeans, under the hem of his shirt to skim over soft flesh and pert nipples, eliciting breathy sighs and quiet whimpers. 

 

The front door slammed shut as someone left and Jiyong jumped, eyes flicking upward to find Seunghyun staring at him with a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth. Mortified that he'd been caught, he turned his back to hide the ridiculous blush that was surely creeping across his face and down his neck. His skin prickled with the heat of embarrassment for the rest of his shift. Too much of a wimp to acknowledge the elephant in the room, he made a point to avoid any and all contact with the boy. When the next set of employees showed up to relieve them, Jiyong flashed Seunghyun a tight smile and rushed outside to unlock his bike, ignoring the confused expressions of his coworkers when he didn't stop to introduce himself.

 

“Hey, Jiyong,” the boy called, having followed him out the door.

 

“Yeah?” He replied, his mouth going dry and his palms going clammy as they gripped at the bike's handles.

 

“Um, if you want, you can lock your bike behind the building with mine next time.” Seunghyun manipulated the book he'd been carrying, curling his fingers tightly around it.

 

“Cool,” Jiyong said, squinting in the harsh light of the sun and making a conscious effort not to fixate on the boy's hands.

 

Another awkward silence fell over them as they stood there on the sidewalk, their eyes looking everywhere but at each other. He just wanted to go home and face-plant into his bed, to hide under the covers and forget that this day even happened.

 

“See you tomorrow, then.” The boy waved his book in a half-hearted salute before spinning on his heel and disappearing through the alleyway next to the coffee shop.

 

Releasing the breath he'd been holding, Jiyong hopped on his bike and took off down the street. The wind on his face was calming. Every mile he put behind him eased some of the tension from his shoulders, even though his head swam with thoughts and images of a pair of dark eyes and full lips. It probably wasn't the brightest idea to fall for the guy he'd have to work with every single day of the week for the next however many months. And it didn't matter if his schoolboy crush was ever reciprocated because either way the results would be messy. Heaven knows he was no stranger to one-sided relationships. 

 

Jiyong paused at a stoplight and ran a hand through his hair. So far all he knew was that Seunghyun was gorgeous, liked to read, and based on their painful exchange outside the cafe was totally a secret marshmallow. The kid had “sweetheart” written all over him, despite his bizarre need to appear bored and aloof. Jiyong was such a sucker for that shit too, and try as he might to resist, he had a feeling the war had been lost before it even began. In short, he was completely, utterly, fucked. 

 

“Wonderful,” he muttered to himself and biked the rest of the way home with a permanent scowl on his face.

 


	2. Playing the Game

 

Aside from the short-lived rush of early morning customers, most days at the cafe were pretty quiet. Slowly but surely, he'd grown accustomed to the ebb and flow of life at The Atomic, familiarizing himself with the regulars and memorizing their preferences. Seunghyun didn't talk to him very much after that first day, letting Jiyong fill drink orders while he sat at his usual spot on the back counter next to the sink, almost always bent over whatever novel he was currently devouring. It amazed him how quickly the boy moved from one book to the next. Sometimes it was fiction, sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was a memoir or a biography. Jiyong still watched him every chance he got, cared less and less every hour if the other boy noticed. He'd given up on hiding his fascination, infatuation, whatever. Pretending he wasn't interested was a waste of time, a waste of energy. He just lacked the conviction to lie to himself when it was so glaringly obvious. It was sort of a game now, seeing how long could he stare until Seunghyun glanced up and flicked his eyes away so fast you'd think he'd been the one leering. 

 

Eventually though, his overt ogling seemed to have chipped away at the walls the dark-haired boy had erected around himself. Jiyong stood at the sink washing some mugs and spoons, summoning every ounce of his willpower to not lean into the jean-clad thigh resting mere inches to his left. He was in the middle of imagining what it would be like to wrap his arms around Seunghyun's waist right now, to nestle into the warm cradle of his legs, when the boy's customary rumble washed over him.

 

“What did you study at university?” He inquired, out of nowhere.

 

“Uh, I got my degree in Lit,” the response tumbled out of him automatically as he rinsed off a saucer and placed it in the drying rack.

 

“Me too,” the boy added, gaze glued to the pages in his lap.

 

And that was pretty much it. Seunghyun fell quiet again and Jiyong bit back the multitude of questions he wanted to ask. What school did he go to? What topic did he write his thesis on? Who was his favorite author? Did he even have one? Instead he chose to refill the coffee lids, wiping his hands on his pants and going to rummage in the set of cabinets on the other side of their workstation. Conveniently, the lids he needed were perched on the top damn shelf and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach them. Like any intelligent person would have done, Jiyong should have grabbed a step ladder from the back, but he kept bouncing up on the tips of his toes to see if he could snag it by the plastic wrap out of sheer stubbornness. He huffed in frustration. And then there was a surge of heat behind him, a set of hips grazing the swell of his ass, a chest pressing firmly into his back, an arm reaching up alongside his and retrieving the package of lids that eluded him. He sucked in a sharp breath at the unexpected contact, leaning back just enough to align their bodies for one deliciously tortuous moment.

 

“Next time, just ask,” Seunghyun spoke softly into his ear and Jiyong swore he nearly got an instant hard-on.

 

Just as fast, the boy stepped away and the heat was gone and he should not be feeling its loss so acutely. For a long while he stood frozen in place, contemplating locking himself in the bathroom to jerk off, wondering if Seunghyun would notice. Because sweet fucking christ he wanted more and he wasn't sure he could be around the other boy until he'd regained control. Jiyong clenched the plastic wrap in his fingers, possibly damaging a few lids in the process. Work decided for him, presenting a solution in the form of a group of caffeine addicted graduate students that came in practically every day to get their fix.

 

It required all of his concentration to fill their drink orders, brain sufficiently fried by Seunghyun's actions. He didn't allow himself time to analyze the other boy's behavior until the students had gone, looking up to find those mahogany eyes peering at him over the edge of the book in his hands. For once he didn't look away, Jiyong's breath catching in his throat. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks for the thousandth fucking time and Seunghyun dropped his gaze, returning to his reading. Exhaling, he drifted over to mindlessly wipe down the espresso machine.

 

Currently, he had absolutely no idea what was going on. For weeks the boy essentially ignored him while Jiyong batted his fucking eyelashes like an idiot expecting miraculous results. And then this? He was so confused. Maybe he was extrapolating more than was actually there. Or maybe Seunghyun had an odd way of dropping him a hint. Jiyong closed his eyes and cleared his mind for a second, needed to take a step back and not obsess over every insignificant detail like he was in middle school or something. Focusing on calming the erratic beating of his heart, he made a choice. Rather than succumb to his physical desire to touch, to taste, to tangle his fingers in that messy mane of hair, he would do his best to capitalize on his intellectual desires. To actively communicate with the boy as opposed to passively crave screwing his brains out. Before Jiyong could change his mind, he meandered over to where Seunghyun was sitting and leaned against the counter.

 

“So where did you go to school?” He played with one of the buttons on his cardigan, anxious.

 

“Tufts,” the dark-haired boy answered, letting his book fall down to his lap. “You?”

 

“University of Chicago.”

 

“Damn.” Seunghyun's voice was tinged with awe.

 

“Yeah...” he laughed a bit, tendrils of warmth swirling in his chest.

 

“That must have been intense. What made you go all the way out there?” The boy's attention was on him fully now, his head turned toward Jiyong and his eyes thoughtful. 

 

“It was. But in a good way,” he said and tried not to blush under that dark gaze. “I went because I wanted to challenge myself, to see what life was like outside of my comfort zone.”

 

Seunghyun nodded, body language more open than Jiyong had ever seen it. Apparently talking equals good. That realization made him feel pretty stupid, especially considering the topic of conversation. He supposed he could blame it on variables outside of his control, like kissable bow shaped lips and a voice that made his insides go all melty, but he would take ownership of his stupidity this time around.  A few customers walked in and the boy hopped down from his perch to take their orders, batting him away when he tried to help. Jiyong pouted and stole Seunghyun's spot next to the sink just to spite the big ol' marshmallow. He wanted to laugh at how quickly the mood had changed solely because he'd had the nerve to initiate more than just lustful looks. Human beings were silly, that much was certain.

 

For the next half hour, he observed the dark-haired boy as he put great care into every single drink he made no matter how simple or complicated. There was a comfortable fluidity to his movements, like he'd been doing this for his entire life. Jiyong wanted to know why he was working in a coffee shop instead of out in the world being amazing (for surely he would be nothing less). He wanted to know why he was so quiet, so tight-lipped and closed off. Maybe it would be easier to spend time with him outside of the cafe. Though he doubted Seunghyun would be inclined to see him any more than he already did. Once the line was gone and he'd finished cleaning, the boy turned to find Jiyong sitting on the counter. At first he appeared surprised, but then a tiny smirk crept onto his face and he hopped up to settle right next to him. Unable to resist, he placed his hand between them so that his pinky finger pressed lightly against the boy's leg. Why? Because he was a glutton for punishment.

 

“Favorite genre...” Seunghyun swung his legs back and forth.

 

“Don't have one,” he replied, grinning.

 

“Me either.” The boy's leg shifted and now his thigh overlapped Jiyong's fingers. “Favorite literary era or decade.”

 

“It's a three-way tie between the mid to late 1800s, the 60s, and the present.” He concentrated on breathing instead of the jolts of electricity traveling the length of his arm directly into his heart.

 

“Ah, so you're a Whitman fan?” The dark-haired boy crossed his arms, knocking into Jiyong slightly.

 

“How did you deduce that from a vague range of dates that include some of the most popular books ever published in the entire history of literature?” He raised an eyebrow, shocked and turned on all at the same time.

 

“Call it a hunch,” the boy chuckled softly and smiled.

 

Jiyong thought he was going to die at the sight of those lips curling upwards, at the sound of amusement  rolling out from his lungs. He felt like he'd just won a fucking marathon. At least he knew the guy had the ability to express emotion, because he was getting a little worried after staring at the same statuesque face for the last few weeks. Not that it wasn't easy on the eyes, but he liked laughter almost as much as he liked the written word. Returning the smile, he shifted his weight and their shoulders connected. Seunghyun, surprisingly, leaned into him instead of leaning away. Jiyong's heart hammered at every pulse point like a runaway train. They needed to keep talking.

 

“Favorite author,” he tossed out.

 

“Haruki Murakami,” Seunghyun replied instantly.

 

“Asshole,” Jiyong nudged him in the arm and the boy exploded with mirth. It was one of the loveliest noises he'd ever heard.

 

“What?” The boy practically giggled.

 

“You know what,” he said wryly.

 

And so it continued until their shift ended, an easy exchange of favorites in a language they both understood. Jiyong forgot about the boy's proximity and the effect it was having on him, far more distracted by their shared passion for well-crafted stories and ideas. Even if some of them were relatively pretentious.

 

They found themselves standing together at the back of the building, Seunghyun hovering a little less awkwardly than usual as he unlocked his bike in preparation to ride home. 

 

“I'll see you tomorrow, Seunghyun.”

 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” The boy almost grinned at him, eyes alight with some version of happiness Jiyong couldn't place, and it filled him with an ease he hadn't known in quite some time.

 

Progress was indeed a beautiful thing.

 


	3. Spell it Out

 

Another bright morning dawned and Jiyong found that he was actually excited to wake up, no longer tempted to burrow further into the nest of his pillows and blankets. Actually, he took that back. He was always tempted to burrow into his bed and sleep for far more hours than he would probably ever need, but knowing that Seunghyun was already at the cafe preparing for the day made resisting that temptation so much easier. Things between them were still strange, still tense, still awkward as fucking hell. Jiyong laughed as he got dressed, thinking about the tiny increments in which they moved forward towards some semblance of friendship. He didn't think he'd ever felt more socially inept than when he was around the other boy, didn't know what it was about him that shut down all normal brain function and turned Jiyong into an utter moron. Scarfing down a piece of toast and half a glass of orange juice, he skipped out the door and hurled himself along empty streets and sidewalks to the only place he wanted to be right now.

 

When he arrived at the coffee shop, it was pretty early. He had a habit of showing up before he really needed to, especially since Seunghyun did all the prep work prior to Jiyong even getting out of bed because he was crazy and a total insomniac. But that never stopped him. And the other boy never said anything when he got there each morning at the same time. It made his stomach do somersaults and his heart do jumping jacks. Walking his bike through the alleyway to the back of the building, his face split into a massive grin as he turned the corner to find The Marshmallow already waiting for him with a steaming cup of caffeinated nectar in hand. Jiyong locked his bike next to Seunghyun's, pausing to appreciate how adorable they looked. He'd never noticed it before, but the colors of their bicycles complimented one another. Teal and burnt orange. It was silly, but that fact filled him with a strange pleasure.

 

“Mornin',” the boy hummed in greeting, offering a rare half-smile and handing Jiyong the ceramic mug.

 

“Thanks,” he said, teeth latching onto his lower lip and willing his cheeks not to bloom with red.

 

The boy's gaze flicked down to his mouth as he ducked past, leaned forward slightly so that their bodies brushed against each other in the process. Jiyong shivered. There was no way he didn't do that on purpose and it made him feel like he was slowly unraveling. All these small, seemingly unintentional caresses. All the stolen glances. All this teasing. And then there would be silence and a tugging sensation in his chest and Seunghyun would suddenly seem impossibly distant. It was enough to give him whiplash. He set his backpack on one of the chairs in the storage room, eyeing the boy as he walked by and blushing profusely when he eyed Jiyong right back. This weird little dance they did every day was almost too much. He never knew where he stood. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath and joined Seunghyun out front behind the counter.

 

Surprisingly enough, he wasn't sitting next to the sink with his face buried in the pages of a book. No, he was doing something much worse. Jiyong wanted so desperately to look away from the sight of the boy stretching his lean body up to restock coffee filters in one of the cabinets, but he couldn't. Seunghyun's shirt lifted, jeans riding low on his hips. He was impressed he hadn't fainted yet, what with all the blood in his brain traveling south at a rapid pace.

 

“Do you want any help?” He really needed to do something that didn't involve voyeuristically perving on his coworker.

 

“Sure,” the boy nodded, eyes swimming with silent laughter. “You can restock the lids. This time we'll put them somewhere you can reach.”

 

“Funny,” Jiyong stuck his tongue out at him.

 

“Though it was sort of cute to watch you jumping around like that all frustrated,” Seunghyun chuckled faintly.

 

Glaring, he moved to the collection of boxes and began removing stacks of lids in different sizes. For a while they didn't say a single word and Jiyong was thankful for the lull, for being able to numb that stupid goddamn itch in every cell of his body. Though the boy was so close he could smell the soap still clinging to his skin from when he last showered. It was making general thought processes incredibly challenging whenever he caught a whiff of the heady scent, of sandalwood and something distinctly male. He fought with himself, struggled not to stare, stole surreptitious glances when he thought the boy wasn't paying attention. They reached for a box on the floor at the same time, fingers clashing. A soft gasp, a moment suspended. Blood pounding, heart racing, Jiyong watched their hands because he was too afraid to look Seunghyun in the eye. Neither of them made an attempt to draw apart, the boy just barely sliding his knuckles against paralyzed fingers. 

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. 

 

The brunette stood up and ruffled Jiyong's hair before going to unlock the front door. He hadn't even realized what time it was. 

 

They maintained their distance after that. At least, he did his best not to get too close for fear of what he might do. Luckily the steady flow of customers offered an excuse not to acknowledge whatever the fuck it was that just happened. Jiyong slouched over the register and picked at the coffee grounds under his fingernails. 

 

“So this is where you've been hiding for the last month?” An incredulous voice broke his concentration.

 

Straightening, he found himself face to face with the last person he expected to see in this little town. His eyes widened and then he was vaulting over the counter to crush his old friend in a suffocating hug.

 

“Holy shit, Jess.” He spun the girl around in his arms. “What are you doing back? I thought you moved to New York.”

 

“New York and I didn't mix,” she said, shrugging. “So now I'm here.”

 

Jiyong leaned back to study the girl he'd known for almost his entire life. Her short, wavy hair was dyed pink now. Ears gauged, septum pierced, skin covered in tattoos. None of this was surprising, though he was sure the story behind her return was far juicier than she was letting on. He brought his hands to rest on her shoulders and smiled.

 

“I missed you.” Jiyong tipped forward to kiss her brow, pulling her in for another hug. 

 

“Me too, Ji.” She buried her face in his neck. “Me, fucking, too.”

 

He laughed, squeezing her one last time and then finally stepping away. 

 

“Who's the hottie behind the counter?” Jess whispered, unabashedly checking out Seunghyun while he read. “ _Please_  tell me you're tapping that.”

 

“Oh my god, shut up.” Jiyong punched her in the arm, turning his back on the boy and hating the heat in his cheeks.

 

“He keeps glaring at me. I think he likes you,” she teased, poking him in the stomach.

 

“I think you're wrong.”

 

“Dude, he is straight up staking his claim right now. I can see it in his eyes.”

 

“Ugh, you're such a dork.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Are you gonna buy some coffee or did you just come here to annoy me?”

 

“Both, technically,” Jess winked. She went to the register and pounded her fist on the counter. “Dance, java monkey, dance!”

 

Giggling and shaking his head, he ran back to the espresso machine to make her a drink. Seunghyun stayed silent throughout their entire exchange, even after he introduced them, the boy merely nodding his head in a muted “hello” and going back to his book. Jiyong frowned at the tense line of his shoulders. Was he angry? It wasn't like the shop was super busy or anything, so talking to Jess shouldn't have been a problem. Right? 

 

“Oh hey, there's a show tonight at The Hideout. A bunch of us are going, you should totally tag along.” Jess waggled her eyebrows, dropping her voice as she continued. “You could bring Mr. Serious Face.”

 

“Yeah right,” Jiyong huffed.

 

“Just sayin',” she sing-songed. “You've still got my number, yes?”

 

“If it's the same one you've had for like, ten years, then yeah.”

 

“Sweet!” She waved as she walked out the door with her cup of coffee. “See you later, nerd!”

 

He hopped up to sit on the back counter next to Seunghyun, swinging his legs, listless. The boy was gripping his book tightly, head bowed and hair falling in his eyes. The need to speak crept up on him and he opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. The awkward atmosphere that always seemed to chase them was back, thicker than ever before, and he didn't like it. It was clear The Marshmallow was upset about something, he could feel it radiating off of him. Jiyong sat on his hands in case the itch became too much for him to handle, because right now all he wanted to do was hug the other boy until all the muscles in his body went soft.. 

 

Someone came up to the register for a refill, so he plastered a  friendly smile on his face and got back to work. The last hour of their shift sluggishly passed in strained silence. He couldn't stop thinking about the reason for Seunghyun's change in behavior and before he got a chance to confront him about it, the next set of employees arrived and the boy slipped out the back door without a word.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later that night at The Hideout, Jiyong had found a vacant spot on the side wall to lean against, not in the mood for the over-the-top exuberance of Jess and her gaggle of weird friends. He'd hovered around the perimeter of their social circle long enough to know that he wouldn't have much to say to them anyway. So he lurked, taking large swigs from a can of beer and watching the crowd bob their heads to the thundering bass coming from the speakers. The band was local but he'd never heard of them before. It wasn't exactly his cup of tea, though he supposed he could deal with it for the time being. He smiled when he heard Jess laugh on the other side of the room. She was a firecracker, to be sure, and he was glad she'd found him. Jiyong just wished they could go hang out at a dive bar or something. This environment was swiftly becoming overwhelming, the press of bodies making him feel mildly claustrophobic. He downed the rest of his beer, scanning the crowd again.

 

And then his heart stopped dead in his chest. Diagonally across from him, immersed in the sea of people, was a smiling Seunghyun. The boy appeared positively animated, deep in conversation with another guy Jiyong didn't recognize. It was strange, to see him so loose, to watch him toss his head back and laugh with abandon. The two of them were standing very close, the boy's friend leaning to whisper into his ear. Seunghyun's hand rested on his friend's shoulder with an intimate familiarity and suddenly Jiyong was sad and angry at the same time. He clenched his fists, effectively destroying the empty can of beer with one forceful squeeze. Jealousy was an emotion he'd never been very comfortable with, but when that hand slipped down to press into the other man's lower back he folded in on himself. He swore he could hear the sound of his heart crying out. It reverberated in his bones. Jiyong wanted that hand on  _his_  shoulder, on his back, trailing over every inch of his skin. Just the thought had him trembling. Sure, he could go over there, but to what end? He'd only end up making an ass out of himself. So he stayed. Besides, the wall wasn't going to hold up itself.

 

“Jiyong?” Came a deep, rumbling voice a few minutes later. “You're, uh, you're not here by yourself, are you?”

 

“Huh?” He snapped his head up, finding Seunghyun and his mysterious friend standing in front of him. “No. Um, Jess is over there with a bunch of other people.”

 

“Ah, so this is the infamous new coworker,” his friend said, eyebrow raised, lips curved in a smirk.

 

“Shut it, Dongwook.” Seunghyun smacked him upside the head, tossing Jiyong a sheepish smile.

 

“Hey! That fucking hurt, asshole.” 

 

“That was kind of the point,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, looking at his feet.

 

In his brooding, he hadn't noticed that the band's set had ended, the next group of musicians getting ready on stage. Jiyong watched the brunette closely, took note of his hands shoved in his pockets and his hunched shoulders. The openness that had been there before was gone, a complete one-eighty from his behavior earlier. Why was he so hard to read? Why did he seem so bipolar around Jiyong?

 

“I'm gonna get some more beers,” the boy announced and promptly escaped from the cumbersome silence that had settled over them.

 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing up at a smiling Dongwook.

 

“What?” Jiyong asked, wary of the handsome boy who clearly knew Seunghyun so well.

 

“Nothing.” His smile melted into a cheshire grin.”It's just nice to finally have a visual reference for the kid Seunghyun never stops talking about.”

 

“Pardon?” He almost choked on his own saliva. Surely Dongwook was mistaken.

 

“Oh god you're both hopeless,” the other man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Hopeless?” Jiyong furrowed his eyebrows. “He barely talks  _to_  me, why would he talk to anyone else  _about_  me?

 

“Think about it for a second, kid.”

 

He let his mind flip through every moment since he started working at The Atomic Cafe more than a month ago, attempted to pinpoint exactly what it was Dongwook wanted him to find. It wasn't until he started paying attention to the small things, the insignificant details, that it clicked and his eyes went wide.

 

“And there it is,” the other boy laughed. “Well done.”

 

“Seunghyun certainly has an interesting way of showing it,” he muttered.

 

“That's because he's an idiot,” Dongwook said, smiling. “Don't take him so seriously.”

 

The Marshmallow in question reappeared then, handing each of them a fresh can of beer. He flashed Jiyong a tiny, hesitant smile and took a huge gulp of the cold liquid. On stage, the last band was finishing their sound check and the lights dimmed down once more. A wave of warmth washed over his left side and he looked over to see Seunghyun leaning up against the wall beside him. The pull of that warmth made his pulse quicken, made his breath hitch. It would be so easy to slide over and remove the space that remained. Even when the music started he couldn't focus on anything else, wanted that distance gone. 

 

Either the boy could read his mind, or Dongwook was right, because that gentle warmth transformed into an inferno as Seunghyun pressed the entire length of their arms together. Jiyong closed his eyes and reminded himself to keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing. But it was so hard when this boy was so near. His skin prickled and his body temperature skyrocketed, heart trying to claw its way up his throat. He shuddered to think what would happen once they'd openly acknowledged this magnetism, seeing as he was already dissolving  into nothing. 

 

From that moment until the house lights came up again at the end of the night, all Jiyong could remember was the way their fingers flirted, the way Seunghyun's thumb caressed the back of his hand so tenderly, the way he placed fleeting touches over knuckle and palm. He'd never been more saturated in erotic tension from so little physical contact. Jiyong couldn't bring himself to push away from that wall and away from the comfort of the boy's presence. Dongwook smirked and signaled that he'd be waiting outside, leaving them to linger in their shared reluctance. 

 

They didn't speak, didn't move. Their hands were still floating between them and he listened to the sound of their heavy breathing. In one fluid motion Seunghyun gently took Jiyong's hand in his own, turned to press his lips to the crown of his head, and slipped away. His skin felt like it had been burned when the pads of the boy's fingers kissed his, throbbing with cries for more. He carried the sensation with him all the way back home, falling asleep with that hand pressed against his chest and a giddy smile etched onto his face.

 


	4. Fever

 

Just because Jiyong was armed with the truth behind Seunghyun's attitude, it didn't mean that he knew how to utilize it. He still felt like a bumbling teenager around him, was still learning how to navigate his attraction. Where did they go from here, exactly? He wasn't sure. But he was going to find out.

 

By the time the dark-haired boy opened the back door to let him in, Jiyong's stomach had grown full with flustered butterflies. His heart skipped a few beats as he entered, unable to anticipate how Seunghyun would act after his unexpected display of affection the night before. But he didn't say anything, simply smiled, stunning and shy and soft. The butterflies swelled and he blushed so deeply he thought he might catch fire.

 

“I um, I made some coffee. Do you want any?”

 

“Please.” Jiyong nodded, sliding his bag from his shoulders and following the boy to the front room.

 

A slight tremor ran through him, painfully aware of how alone they were. Of how alone they always were. He hadn't really considered how many hours they spent together on a daily basis. It probably said a lot that they hadn't grown sick of each other yet. Jiyong claimed the spot on the counter next to the sink and studied the boy's hands as he poured the black liquid into a mug. There were some imperfections, places where he'd burned himself accidentally, but he would never forget the way those fingers had branded his skin. The way they dismantled his composure so easily. Seunghyun finished and shuffled over to him with the brimming cup. Jiyong reached out to accept it, unable to avoid the torture of their hands grazing as he did. Their eyes met over the steam that rose in billowy tendrils and those butterflies took flight.

 

“Careful, it's still hot,” the brunette said, very slowly relinquishing his hold.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed.

 

Though it wasn't the ceramic mug that was scalding his hands right now. He took a sip, making sure not to destroy his taste-buds, positive that the permanent pink of his face rivaled even the hottest of coffees.

 

“You seem to be rather fond of stealing my seat.” Seunghyun stood in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, brow arched.

 

“I don't see your name on it,” he smirked.

 

“Technically, neither is yours,” the boy pointed out, chuckling.

 

“But I'm already sitting here.”

 

“That can be changed.” 

 

And before he could protest, the boy had latched onto his waist, forcibly scooting him over to make just enough room. The coffee in his hands sloshed around, threatening to spill over. Much like his grip on reality. Seunghyun hesitated, saturating Jiyong's personal space with his touch and his scent and his warmth. He didn't know what to do because he couldn't fucking move. The brunette's face was so close to his that his breath disturbed the tiny hairs on his cheek with each uneven exhale. It wouldn't take much, merely a subtle shift of his head and their lips would collide in a sweet supernova of stimulation. They were both thinking about it, Jiyong could read it in the boy's dilating pupils. Finally Seunghyun cleared his throat quietly and stepped away to lift himself onto the counter, pulling a small paperback book from his pocket. Bereft of all language, he consumed the rest of his coffee in huge gulps, desperately hoping the thigh pressed against his didn't result in total heart failure.

 

“Treasure Island is wonderful,” Jiyong said, finally finding his voice. “Have you read it before?”

 

“Uh, three times, actually.” The boy smoothed his palms over the open pages. “But my first time since college.”

 

“Your voracity for books puts me to shame.” He tilted his head to the side to look at Seunghyun's profile, at the sharp curve of his jaw and the line of his neck.

 

“Somehow I doubt that.” The boy's lips quirked upward.

 

“No, really. I can't even focus long enough to finish a goddamn chapter anymore.”

 

“Why do you suppose that is?”

 

“I'm hoping it's because I'm burnt out, instead of having lost the will to read.”

 

“Shit.” The boy frowned. “I don't think I could continue living if that ever happened to me.”

 

“Seriously,” he sighed, the boy's voice draining the tightness from his muscles, calming the gallop of his pulse. “Which is why I request that you take me out back and shoot me if that ends up being the case.”

 

Jiyong placed his hand on Seunghyun's leg as he said this, intending for it to be a brief affirmation. People touched when they talked, it was what he did when he started to feel at ease around someone. But the tips of his fingers had landed near the edge of the boy's inner thigh. And in the realizing, he had missed the opportunity to remove said hand without it being somewhat awkward. Seunghyun tensed up beneath him as he pulled away, trailing his fingers over that thigh because he couldn't resist. Setting his book down, the boy slid off the counter.

 

“Should probably unlock the door,” the boy mumbled, pointing behind him and beating a hasty retreat.

 

Well, aside from feeling like bashing his head against the wall, Jiyong thought that could have gone considerably worse. Seunghyun clearly had no issues dishing it out, but when it came to being on the receiving end of flirtation, he panicked. He decided to spend the rest of the day testing this theory, give the boy a taste of his own medicine. At the very least it would provide an opening to push things forward. He couldn't take much more of this undefined game they were playing. Wanted the freedom to wrap his arms around The Marshmallow, to sneak kisses and purposeful caresses full of promise. It would probably take them a while to learn how to just  _be_  with one another, on any level, but Jiyong believed it was well worth the effort.

 

Later that morning he watched Seunghyun at the sink cleaning some cups, noticed that the boy had a dollop of foam clinging to his cheek. Waiting until he'd dried his hands, Jiyong hopped forward to block his path when he turned, trying not to laugh at his confused expression. The other boy moved to go around him, but he lunged to the right. Smiling now, Seunghyun ducked to the left only to be blocked yet again.

 

“Do you need something, you dork?” He laughed.

 

“Yeah, hold still...” And Jiyong reached up to grasp the boy's chin between thumb and forefinger.

 

Using his free hand, he wiped away the foam, taking his time and allowing his touch to ghost over the boy's skin. Seunghyun's dark eyes widened, his adams apple bobbing at this throat. The same desire from earlier, the one urging him to crush their lips together, grabbed him with such force he nearly forgot they were still at the cafe surrounded by patrons. So Jiyong took a shaky breath and stepped back, making sure the dark-haired boy watched as he licked the foam from his finger. Seunghyun blushed for the first time since the moment he'd laid eyes on him all those weeks ago. The deep, rose-colored hue dusted the boy's cheekbones, making him even more alluring, even more beautiful. His skin illuminated with the intensity of it, he was glowing.

 

“Remind me to make you blush more often,” Jiyong said distantly, captivated by the precious sight before him.

 

Seunghyun ducked his head and fell into a silence that carried through to the end of their shift. It was different somehow though, laced with layers of impatience for that clock on the wall to hit 2pm. The boy's tongue may have been still, but his body was humming with ill-contained anticipation, which spoke so much louder. Jiyong spent those last couple hours watching him like a hawk, trying and failing to make any sense out of him. He knew there was something buried beneath the surface, an aspect of Seunghyun's personality that would take longer than a measly month to unearth. His desire to discover that something warred with his desire to bend the boy over the counter and make him scream. Sex complicated things, that much was true, but he didn't feel the threat of messiness anymore. He felt a sense of peace and possibility amid their blundering. And excitement. Always excitement.

 

Jiyong was in the back room gathering his bag when Seunghyun swept through, snatching his hand and leading him to a door he'd never noticed prior to this moment. The boy unlocked it, dragging him up several flights of cement stairs.

 

“Where the hell are we going?” he laughed, puzzled and delighted and relishing the weight of their clasped hands.

 

“You'll see,” Seunghyun tossed the words over his shoulder, smile following suit.

 

At the top of the stairs was yet another door. With one push his world erupted in a burst of light and then they were outside, surrounded by infinite blue and a ring of green. The answer to his question should have been obvious. They were on the roof.

 

“Wow...” Was all Jiyong managed to articulate as he digested the reality of a verdant garden hidden on top of the coffee shop.

 

Seunghyun's fingers weaved into his instead of slipping away like he expected them to. If he was looking for some sort of sign, there wasn't one clearer than this. The Marshmallow did, in fact, like him. And it made his heart impossibly giddy. They stood there side by side for a long while, soaking in the sun and communicating by squeezing each other's hands. Sometimes one of them would catch the other staring. Which resulted in hysterical laughter on Seunghyun's part when Jiyong started making faces at him. They boy's eyes closed and his lips parted and he let his head fall back and his shoulders shake. He felt liberated just watching it happen, practically swooning at the sight of the brunette so unrestrained. Jiyong leaned in close, bumping their shoulders.

 

“Hey,” he murmured.

 

“Hey...” Seunghyun replied, nudging him right back.

 

Jiyong took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

 

“You make me feel like I'm twelve.” He chuckled at how silly he sounded.

 

“The feeling is mutual.”

 

“Can I hug you?' Jiyong said in the smallest voice, genuinely feeling like a child now.

 

Seunghyun's arms enveloped him then, tucking him into the curve of his body. He clung to the boy's waist and cemented in his mind this moment of mundane bliss. Because never again would it happen precisely as it was happening now. And he wanted to remember this feeling forever.

 


	5. Taking Flight

 

For as long as he could remember, there had been a carnival on the outskirts of town in the middle of the Summer. Jiyong's parents had taken him every single year when he was younger, but time and age had made him forget that fried dough, cotton candy, and ferris wheels could still be a source of pleasure. Something about wandering the fairgrounds on a muggy July evening while eating soft-serve just sounded so damn appealing. At first, he was nervous about asking Seunghyun to go with him, afraid the boy would think it dull or juvenile. After pacing the floor behind the cafe counter under the brunette's watchful gaze, he finally worked up the courage.

 

“Hey, Seunghyun...” Jiyong fidgeted in front of him, unable to keep still.

 

“Yes?” The boy was trying to suppress his amused smile as he wiped clean the arm of the milk steamer. It wasn't working.

 

“Would you...,” he sighed. “Nevermind, it's stupid.” Frowning, he waved the thought away and resumed his pacing.

 

“Jiyong,” the boy turned and grabbed him by the shoulders, grinning. “Spit it out.'

 

He bit his lip, looked up at the ceiling and then stared at the floor. Why was this so hard? He  _could_  talk to the boy, he knew he was capable of it. They'd had countless conversations, but for some goddamn reason this was killing him.

 

“Doyouwannagotothecarnivalwithme?” He mumbled in one breath.

 

Seunghyun laughed and lifted a hand to his chin, made him gaze up at that adorable face, into those lovely, warm eyes. Jiyong wondered when his breath would stop catching in his throat every time he looked at the boy. The things he did to him, it wasn't fair.

 

“One more time now.” The boy's thumb moved in slow sweeps over his skin. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to maintain eye-contact, to not melt under those heavenly hands.

 

“Do you want to go to the carnival with me after work today?” Jiyong knew his face must have been bright red.

 

“The carnival?” The boy seemed surprised.

 

“Y-yeah...”

 

“It's been a long time since I went to one of those.” Seunghyun's touch lingered, fingers drifting along his jawline.

 

“We don't have to, y'know, if you don't want to.”

 

“No!” He cried. “I mean, I want to. I would love to.”

 

When the boy's caresses fell to his neck, Jiyong's whole body tingled with the heat coursing through him. Flustered beyond reason he flashed him a quick smile, nodded his head, and drew away from the welcoming softness of The Marshmallow's arms. Now that he'd held the other boy it was difficult not to spend the rest of his life snuggled up against him. Jiyong wanted to touch Seunghyun always, wanted to  _be_  touched always, and that need clawed at his heart. That need frightened him. Because it grew from his loins and not from his head. He worried that the potency of his physical desire for the boy would overpower everything else. Which was one of the reasons why tonight would be so interesting. Not only would they be spending more than the usual amount of time together, but it would be in an environment that invited an intimacy he both desired and feared. Jiyong's anxiety built with each tick of the clock's hands until it had reached a crescendo.

 

 

 

The carnival was best experienced once the sun had set, which left them with at least five hours to kill. As much as he wanted to spend those five hours with Seunghyun, wanted to spend countless hours with him, Jiyong chose to go home before they met up again later. Plus his insecurities dictated that he destroy his closet in search of something suitable to wear. He didn't usually fall victim to vanity, but there was a boy involved. And when there was a boy involved, he tended to act like a teenaged girl on prom night. The butterflies never seemed to stop raging inside of him. Didn't matter if he was with Seunghyun or not. Just knowing that he existed was enough to make his pulse quiver and swell with the force of a tropical hurricane. He made a frantic final check in the mirror and then set off for the fairgrounds on his bike.

 

Countless colored lights, laughter, squeals of joy. A discordant chorus of sight, smell, and sound. Nothing about this place had changed and Jiyong absolutely loved it. He waited at the entrance, scuffing his feet on the pavement and totally not freaking out about the fact that this was, for all intents and purposes, his first date with Seunghyun. It hadn't been explicitly mentioned, but it might as well have been. He was wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs when the boy appeared before him, a vision in tight jeans that left very little to the imagination and a loose-fitting black t-shirt. Though he could have been wearing a dress and Jiyong would still find him infinitely appealing. They exchanged bashful smiles, eyes cautiously roving over each other's bodies. Unwilling to deny himself, he closed the distance between them and burrowed into the boy's embrace. Seunghyun pulled him closer almost instantly.

 

“Would it be weird for me to admit that I missed you?” He asked, chin resting on the boy's shoulder.

 

“It hasn't been that long,” the brunette chuckled, the rumble of his mirth rattling Jiyong's ribcage.

 

“I know,” he said, squeezing the boy around the waist.

 

Seunghyun stroked the back of his head, holding him tightly, other hand molded to his hip. He liked that this was okay now, the hugging, the admitting that he thought about little else. Jiyong pressed his nose into the boy's neck and inhaled deeply.

 

“If we don't head inside now, I'm worried I won't be able to let go of you,” the boy confessed, whispered breath tickling his ear.

 

He shivered against him, clung a little bit tighter, and then disentangled his limbs to step away. The reality of the boy being just as physically drawn to him, just as defenseless, made keeping his distance that much harder. 

 

“Are you cold?” Seunghyun asked in disbelief. “It's like eighty degrees right now.”

 

“No,” he smiled, taking the boy's hand and leading them forward. “That was from you.”

 

The Marshmallow got real quiet after that, allowing him to drag them both through throngs of bright-eyed children and their happily exhausted parents. As was their habit, they didn't speak for a long while, the pendulum of their clasped hands swinging between them the only communication that was necessary. Jiyong reveled in the way their knuckles slotted together, the way Seunghyun's skin felt hot and cool on his all at the same time. The way he knew how badly that hand wanted to be other places because he was having the same problem. Finally he stopped in front of a carnival game, the steeplechase one where you sprayed a water gun at a target to make your horse advance toward the finish line. He looked over at the boy to gauge his interest, raising an eyebrow and biting down on his giddy smile. 

 

“This game? Really?” Seunghyun pointed at the rows of metal jockeys atop their metal horses.

 

“Yep.”

 

“You're totally going down.” The boy grinned, dragging them forward to sit at a pair of the old, vinyl upholstered stools.

 

They ended up playing almost ten rounds. Hearty, tear-filled laughter poured from their mouths because Jiyong kept poking Seunghyun in the stomach to distract him and the boy would retaliate by blindly trying to cover his eyes with one hand. The harder he laughed, the more difficult it was to concentrate, but the lightness bursting from his bones left him euphoric so he didn't care. As they walked away, he elbowed the boy in the side for winning.

 

It was inevitable that at one point in the night he would be putting funnel cake in his mouth, so it came as no surprise when he found himself sitting across from Seunghyun with a heaping paper plate of fried dough in front of him. Their knees met and knocked under the table, calves brushing and feet getting to know one another. Jiyong picked at the funnel cake, popping crispy pieces of greasy dough onto his tongue with relish. It was bad enough that they were pretty much playing footsie, but when their fingers brushed while grabbing for more, he could feel some of his control seep away. That touch was electric. Always had been. And it gave Jiyong ideas.

 

“I've been meaning to ask,” Jiyong spoke up. “And you don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

 

“Just ask the question,” Seunghyun smirked and nudged his leg under the table.

 

“Why are you working at The Atomic?”

 

The boy paused, entire body going very still while he mulled it over. He looked like he was taking great care with those thoughts, finding the precise way to articulate them and do them justice. Jiyong was very familiar with this process.

 

“I'm working at The Atomic because I lack the conviction to pursue a career in my field.”

 

He studied the boy closely, took in the slumped curve of his shoulders and the wry quirk of his lips, the furrowed line of his brow and the thickness of his lashes splashed across his skin from his downcast gaze. So many facets of this boy were a mystery to him. But the more he observed, the more he learned, and the more he learned the more he wanted to stay close. To cleave to him like a shadow. To figure him out. Seunghyun looked up at him then, dark, mahogany eyes locking on his. 

 

“What about you?” The brunette tore off a piece of fried dough and placed it in his mouth, tongue sweeping over his lips to lick away the powdered sugar.

 

Jiyong watched the movement of that tongue, swallowing thickly when he imagined it sliding hot and wet over the side of his neck. He noticed the light dancing in those twin pools of deep brown and knew immediately that Seunghyun was on to him. Did he really broadcast his emotions so obviously? The boy shifted, sliding a thigh between his legs so that he could feel the warmth pouring off of him in waves. Apparently the answer was yes. He cleared his throat and stared at the table.

 

“Because I was tired of looking for a job.” Jiyong shrugged. “I needed money and The Atomic was hiring.”

 

“Did you even bother looking for anything related to your degree?”

 

“Nope,” he said and they both laughed.

 

Dropping his head into his hands, he groaned and rubbed at his face. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one who'd been bitten by the apathy bug.

 

“Things could be worse, though,” the boy offered.

 

“Things can  _always_  be worse.” Jiyong smiled, pressing his leg against Seunghyun's.

 

They picked at the last few pieces of funnel cake, stealing crumbs from each other's fingers and generally making a mess. He sucked the sugar and grease from his skin, heart stuttering in his chest because the boy was staring at him with a different kind of hunger. One that made the butterflies erupt into a fierce frenzy. Seunghyun's cheeks colored and he silently rose from his seat to throw out the paper plate. Jiyong really did enjoy seeing the boy blush, like he was constantly surprised by his own feelings. It only made him more charming.

 

“So, it's sort of cheesy. But, uh, would you be interested in riding the ferris wheel?” The brunette asked once he'd returned to the table.

 

“Hell yeah,” he beamed, standing up next to the boy. “I was actually gonna ask you the same.”

 

“Good.” Seunghyun gave him a shy smile, hands shoved in his pockets. “Shall we?”

 

The ferris wheel towered above them as they waited together in line, its myriad lights emitting a soft glow. The bright bulbs reflected in the boy's eyes like a cluster of stars and Jiyong got lost in their celestial depths. It should have been awkward, the staring and the not talking, but they'd become so attuned to one another's body language after working together every single day. It felt normal. Seunghyun would grin and look away every few minutes, but his gaze would always find Jiyong's again. Eventually it was their turn to get on, climbing onto the small bench seats and securing the door behind them. The cabin was sort of cramped but Jiyong didn't mind. He liked that the boy's long legs had to cross over into his personal space, not that they needed any excuses in that department. Leaning back, he folded his hands over his stomach, thinking about how ridiculously cliché it would be if they kissed right now but wanting it nonetheless.

 

“Do you remember why you wanted to major in Literature?” Seunghyun asked, breaking their long silence. “If you say “because I love books” I will not hesitate to smack you.”

 

Laughing, he rolled his eyes and sighed. The boy leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, giving Jiyong his undivided attention. Why  _did_  he choose to pursue that path? It was so long ago now he couldn't quite remember all the deciding factors. 

 

“I wanted an excuse to read all the time.” He lightly knocked his knee against Seunghyun's leg over and over again, the repetitious movement helping him think. “I wanted to expend all my energy on something I cared about, even though the degree is pretty much useless.”

 

“Have you ever considered teaching?” The Marshmallow asked, placing his hand on Jiyong's other knee, absently smoothing his thumb over the fabric of his jeans, effectively obliterating all attempts at concentration.

 

“Don't think I'd be any good at it,” he breathed, their closeness suddenly making him feel quite warm.

 

“You might surprise yourself.” Seunghyun's fingers were gradually migrating north, gradually pulling him apart at the seams.

 

“Why did  _you_  choose Literature?” Jiyong wasn't sure what the boy thought he was doing. They'd have to exit soon and he didn't want to start something they couldn't finish.

 

“Parental expectations. My father's an English professor.” 

 

“But you read so much.” He slid further down in his seat, the boy's ministrations turning him into jello. 

 

“Out of habit. Almost like breathing,” Seunghyun said, fingers kneading his thigh now. “It's not that I don't get enjoyment from it, I do love books. But I'm not sure it would have been my first choice under other circumstances.”

 

Jiyong bit back a moan, the tension building in his gut becoming too much to handle. He covered the boy's hand with his own to still his movements and sat up, their faces inches apart.

 

“If you keep doing that, I'm going to lose my mind.”

 

“Sorry.” The brunette huffed a quiet laugh and looked him in the eye. “I just really like touching you.”

 

He flicked his gaze down to Seunghyun's lips. The moment had set itself up perfectly, the temptation hanging thickly in the air between them. He wanted that mouth on his so badly it was painful. But he knew that if he gave in here and now there was a distinct chance that he would never stop. So he bent forward, craning his neck slightly to bestow a single kiss to the boy's forehead. Seunghyun leaned into the contact, his nose brushing against Jiyong's jaw as he pulled away. 

 

“What was that for?” The boy whispered.

 

“I'm afraid, if I kiss your lips,” he murmured, lifting a hand to trail the tips of his fingers along Seunghyun's mouth. “That I won't be able to restrain myself.”

 

Releasing a shuddery breath, the boy leaned back to distance himself, dragging his hand from Jiyong's thigh. The ferris wheel squealed to a halt and then their door was being unlocked, the operator ushering them to the exit in order to keep the rotation going. Without thinking about it, he took hold of the boy's hand as they walked, that familiar quiet falling over them again. 

 

The two of them wandered through the maze of the carnival games and the food vendors. Never pausing, just observing. Until finally Seunghyun stopped in front of a booth with what looked like a variation of the ring toss game, rows and rows of stuffed animals suspended above to entice passerby to play. The boy flashed him a sly grin and walked over to pay for three rounds. Jiyong stood off to the side, watching and laughing because he couldn't believe The Marshmallow was successfully getting every single plastic ring to land perfectly on the glass bottles. Even the guy manning the booth looked impressed. Seunghyun finished to thunderous applause from the small crowd of strangers that had formed around them, blushing and focusing on the prizes he was supposed to pick from. The boy pointed at something that Jiyong couldn't see, the guy disappearing into the back and re-emerging with something small, stuffed and green. Seunghyun hid the stuffed creature behind his back as he walked over.

 

“That was pretty incredible.” 

 

“It was nothing,” the boy said, ducking his head to hide the pleased smile on his face. “This is for you, by the way.”

 

And then his arms were full of stuffed dragon, with cute horns and tiny wings and Jiyong thought that he might just melt into a massive puddle. The synthetic fur felt perfectly soft on his skin, the stuffing not too firm or too loose. Perfect for cuddling, which he would participate in shamelessly as soon as he got home. He looked up at The Marshmallow, who was clearly so nervous about his reaction, hands shoved so far in his pockets he was surprised he hadn't punched a hole through the fabric.

 

“Thank you, Seunghyun,” he said, quiet and sincere, and stepped in close to press his lips to the boy's rosy cheek. 

 

“You're welcome.” The brunette whispered, wearing the sweetest grin and blushing twice as hard.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Jiyong linked their fingers, dragon tucked under his arm, and tugged the embarrassed boy to the front entrance where they'd left their bikes. The air was perfect and the night was still relatively young and he wasn't ready to go home just yet. If he could, he would drag this evening out forever, extend it into a lifetime. He leaned against his bicycle and watched the other boy crouch down to unlock his own.

 

“Is it cool if I ride back with you to the cafe?”

 

“Of course.”

 

They whizzed down peaceful, empty roads. Raced from one streetlamp to the next, giggling and weaving in and out of the shadows. Jiyong emitted a whoop or two, unable to contain the joyous swelling in his chest. He lifted the dragon in one hand, steered the bike with the other, and pretended it could fly. It made him feel like he was eight years old again, sitting in the back seat of his parents' car with the windows down. He would always stick his head and arms as far out as his dad would let him in order to catch the wind in his mouth and feel it pushing through his fingers. The smallest pleasures always left the greatest impressions.

 

The two of them turned into the alleyway next to the cafe. Jiyong rode around in circles on the pavement while the boy secured his bike to the back of the building. He pulled up alongside Seunghyun, happy as the morning sun, and dismounted.

 

“Hey.” He nudged the boy with his shoulder, radiant.

 

“Hey,” Seunghyun chuckled, wrapping an arm around him and drawing him against the line of his body.

 

He pressed his face into the brunette's neck and simply breathed him in. Jiyong had a feeling he would end up doing that a lot, something he would file away under “smallest pleasures”. Sighing, his hot breath coated the boy's skin. Seunghyun trembled, chest rising and falling at uneven intervals, fingers clenching at the cotton of his shirt. When the boy turned to embrace him fully, eliminating all remaining space, he finally gave in. Emboldened by his euphoria he dragged lips and nose along the tender flesh of the boy's neck, slipped a hand underneath the boy's shirt and let his fingers dance over the notches in his spine. The time for restraint had passed. He didn't want to have to hold back that itch, didn't want to ignore the tugging in his gut or the fire under his skin. Seunghyun had his hands buried in Jiyong's hair as he flicked his tongue out to taste salt, every gasp out of the boy's mouth going straight to his dick. It took a lot of effort not to push him up against the brick wall of the cafe and suck him dry.

 

Slowly, he pulled back to take in the other boy's hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. Long-fingered hands smoothed over the planes of his face, thumb gliding over the slope of his nose before brushing across his parted lips. 

 

“You make me feel too much and too deeply,” Seunghyun murmured. 

 

“The feeling is mutual.” He mouthed at the boy's thumb, nipping at it with the edge of his teeth.

 

“I'm going to kiss you now,” the boy whispered, looking directly into his eyes, and closed that final distance.

 

It was the most intoxicating sensation Jiyong had ever experienced, heart going into a tizzy and knees going weak. The softness of the boy's mouth on his was exquisite, the slide of his tongue sinful and delicious. He moaned loudly into the embrace and lost himself in the ocean of Seunghyun's sweetness, was drunk on it. Nothing had ever felt like this before.

 

Briefly, his mind diverged from the task at hand and he thought of all the seemingly innocuous decisions he'd made that had lead him to this exact point in time. So many possibilities, so many potential outcomes. He sighed, tightening his hold, sucking the boy's bottom lip into his mouth. 

 

Jiyong would gladly drown, would happily burn, would gleefully fall apart, and he would never look back.

 


	6. Tightrope: Part 1

 

Limbs tangled up in his sheets, Jiyong took his time crawling out of bed the next morning. He luxuriated in the gossamer glow of the newly risen sun and drew comfort from the plush press of the tiny green dragon still in his arms. The stuffed creature was propped up on his chest, looking down at him with its beady plastic eyes. He smiled to himself, still hung up on the adorable gesture and all the emotions that followed. Stretching, Jiyong rolled over onto his side and brought the tips of his fingers to trace the soft contours of his lips. He was remembering the texture of the brunette's tongue, the heat of his mouth. Imagined he could still find the taste of Seunghyun's sweetness hidden in the nooks and crannies of his teeth. Oh that boy was trouble. An abundance of fucking trouble. He could sense the familiar ache of longing in his muscles and bones. The blind need that came with liking someone too much. That impulse to give the other person every single piece of you, because it felt right at the time and fuck playing it safe. He'd never been very good at playing it safe anyway.

 

In the bathroom he brushed his teeth and wondered how this would effect their already non-existent working relationship. It's not like they followed any protocol at the cafe because they had no supervision. And if Seunghyun was supposed to be that supervision...He snorted and almost choked on his toothpaste. What it boiled down to, was that their manager essentially paid them both to brew coffee and make eyes at each other. Not that he was complaining. But he also didn't want to end up getting sacked because they spent all their time fooling around. Jiyong briefly fantasized about shoving Seunghyun into the back stairwell and fucking him up against the wall, the boy's screams ricocheting off of the brick and cement and echoing in his ears. He quivered at the possible reality, rinsing his mouth out and cursing his brain for being such a shameless tease. This really was  _ **not**_  helping.

 

Finally making it to The Atomic, albeit a little later than usual, he moved to knock on the rear door only to find a neon pink post-it stuck to its surface. Jiyong frowned, squinting at the novel written on the tiny piece of paper. Obviously it was from The Marshmallow, his neat scrawl informing him that he'd left to run an errand, was endlessly apologetic, and would return as soon as he could. It was actually pretty cute. The boy even made room for a little smiley face at the bottom next to his initials. He laughed and sat on one of the old, rusted chairs that had probably been there for at least a decade. Chin in hand, Jiyong let his mind wander, thoughts drifting aimlessly until they came back to Seunghyun. He didn't know what to expect today, now that they'd kissed. Didn't know if he had it in him to behave when the boy would be standing right next to him for eight hours. Temptation personified. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried not to worry about something he had no real control over. Life would unfold as it wanted to.

 

“Hey, sorry,” the brunette panted as he appeared from around the corner, drawing Jiyong out of his daze. “I had to buy some milk, our normal delivery never arrived yesterday.”

 

“Don't worry about it.” He stood, smiling. “Need any help?”

 

Seunghyun nodded and handed over the paper grocery bags in his arms so he could unlock the door. They entered together, migrating to the front room to put away the cartons in the refrigerator. Already Jiyong was having serious problems, frequently letting his gaze wander to The Marshmallow's fingers, following their nimble movements and recalling their searing heat when they'd sunk into the softness of his thigh. Mouth going dry, he berated himself for having such a one-track mind and hoisted himself up onto the counter. The boy joined him a few minutes later.

 

“I was thinking of riding my bike up to the lake after work today.” Seunghyun put his hand down on the wooden surface between them, edges of their palms touching. “Wanna come with?”

 

The invitation hung in the air while Jiyong fought to keep his body temperature somewhat normal. He lifted his pinky finger and wove it with the boy's, taking a deep breath.

 

“Yeah,” he looked up from their hands. “I do.”

 

“Perfect,” the brunette's eyes lit up, pleased smile tugging at his lips.

 

They held each other's gaze for an undefined stretch of time, heart fluttering with every infinitesimal shift of Seunghyun's finger over his. He mustered the courage to satisfy the urge he'd had the day they met, reaching out to brush the boy's perfectly disheveled hair from his face and caress the thickness of his eyebrow. A sigh, a tilt of the head, a subtle warmth seeping into his skin. The boy's eyelids fell shut as Jiyong's palm molded to his cheek, thumb sweeping over the swell of bone and the dusting of pink. How was this human being so captivating, so infinitely handsome that it almost pained him to look for too long? He would allow himself this innocent display of affection for now, too afraid to engage in anything more. Too lacking in self-control. So he withdrew and ignored Seunghyun's beautifully serene expression, even though it killed him. Before the other boy opened his eyes, he hopped down to go unlock the front door because they were still at work and responsibility was a bitch. Turning around, Jiyong found The Marshmallow hadn't moved, except to bow his head and grip the edge of the wooden counter until his knuckles turned white.

 

It was another slow day for The Atomic. He marveled at the fact that this place had managed to stay in business for so long. There had barely been any customers that morning at all which meant most of their shift consisted of exchanging weird faces and meaningful glances. Seunghyun leaned back against the register, arms crossed and tongue sticking out while Jiyong stood on the other side of the workstation trying not to laugh as he made coffee. They didn't speak much, but then again they didn't have to. Their darting tongues, sunlit smiles, and scrunched up noses communicated more than enough. Occasionally the boy would poke him in the side as he passed by, earning him an amused glare and a thwack on the arm. He liked this strange easiness that had taken place of the awkward tension. Well, not entirely. Jiyong still imagined himself as a fumbling, emotionally stunted child trapped inside of a twenty-three year old's body. But the playfulness helped keep the slow burn in his chest at bay. Their combined laughter a balm for his raging hormones. Though the same could not be said for his heart, which was a bit on the wobbly side.

 

“Have you ever been up to Brandt Lake?” Seunghyun asked as they walked out of the cafe.

 

“I'm sure my parents took me when I was little, but I don't have any clear memories.” He unlocked his bike and waited until the boy was ready, adjusting his backpack.

 

“Well...” the boy ducked his head and kicked nervously at his front bike wheel. “I hope this one stands out.”

 

The wobbling in his chest increased exponentially and he stared at Seunghyun, curtain of dark hair blocking his face again. Sometimes he just wanted to jump around and flail because he didn't know how else to express the feelings cartwheeling around inside of him. There were no words for what he was going through. This softness in his heart could not be articulated in any spoken language. Jiyong walked forward with his bike until he was standing directly beside the boy, their arms brushing as he moved to kiss his cheek. Seunghyun leaned into him and sighed.

 

“Let's go,” he said quietly, tugging on the hem of the boy's shirtsleeve and failing to stifle an excited smile.

 

The trek to the lake was beautiful, the sun not too hot on their faces. Since it was still early enough in the afternoon, not many people were out on the trails either which gave them ample room to goof off. Jiyong laughed until his stomach hurt, trying not to loose control of his handlebars as they zig-zagged back and forth over the dirt pathway, narrowly avoiding collisions with each other left and right. Seunghyun would cruise by, stick one of his arms out to ruffle his hair, and then speed off. Naturally, this evolved into them chasing one another all the way to the lake, ending their game when the brunette lead him to a deserted dock on the far side of the water. They abandoned their bikes in the grass and Jiyong paused, hands on his hips, to calm his racing heart.

 

“You're such a jerk,” he grinned, shaking his head.

 

“Oh please, you totally nailed me in the shin about half a mile back.” Seunghyun pointed at him, laughter brimming in his mahogany eyes. “I saw that triumphant smirk, too.”

 

“It was an accident, I swear,” Jiyong giggled.

 

“Uh-huh...” The boy raised a skeptical eyebrow and started heading for the dock.

 

He followed, gazing out at the calm surface of the lake, and watched the trees dance. Distant shrieks of amusement carried from the opposite shore, a group of kids happily playing in the water. Clusters of birds swooped and somersaulted overhead. This place was so idyllic it didn't even feel real. He toed his shoes off and set his bag down on the warm wood, moving to sit close to Seunghyun where he was perched on the edge. Jiyong let his bare feet dangle and skim the coolness of the water, his legs splayed out just so, thigh plastered to the boy's from knee to hip. It was becoming easier to touch him without having a heart attack. Barely, but it was an improvement at least. He felt Seunghyun return the pressure and his pulse stuttered slightly. Perhaps he spoke too soon.

 

“I like this,” he said softly and smiled, closing his eyes and tilting his face up to the sun. “Thank you.”

 

“You're most welcome,” the brunette responded, the happy tone of his voice washing over Jiyong.

 

They stayed quiet for a while, enjoying the serenity of their surroundings and the pleasure of each other's company. Seunghyun kept knocking Jiyong's foot with his own, leg swinging back and forth. The contact was innocent enough at first, but then the swinging stopped and the boy began absently stroking the curve of his arch with his toes. And then the curve of his heel and the swell of his ankle. He stopped thinking when the softness of Seunghyun's sole pressed down against the top of his foot and he tilted to the side until their shoulders connected. It was hard to stay away from the boy in a physical sense, the burning need to be near him never went away. But he sometimes worried if he was becoming attached too quickly. Jiyong knew that Seunghyun liked touching him, had confessed to it just last night. Though he was still afraid to reveal exactly how much he craved every single stroke and caress. Every embrace. Every nudge of finger or knee or elbow. The boy twined his calf around Jiyong's and he closed his eyes again.

 

“If you could do anything right now, go anywhere, money being of no consequence, what would you do?” Seunghyun's deep voice broke the peaceful silence.

 

He turned his head to study the boy's profile and the movement drew his attention. They stared at one another for a moment while Jiyong contemplated making up some bullshit answer over telling him the truth. The truth being that here and now was pretty goddamn wonderful and he didn't really need to be anywhere else. Even though the world held many beautiful things, the only one he wanted was right in front of him. So Jiyong didn't say anything at all, merely leaned forward to press his lips to Seunghyun's in a sweet, simple kiss and withdrew. The boy looked surprised by his actions, eyebrows raised and cheeks rosy.

 

“Does that answer your question or should I try again?” Jiyong smiled, suddenly giddy.

 

“I, uh...I think you might need to explain a little more thoroughly.” Seunghyun nodded, face completely serious.

 

He chuckled at their stupidity and dove in for another kiss, this time adding less sugar and more spice. The other boy's lips parted in open invitation and Jiyong slid his tongue into that beautiful mouth. Lifting a hand to grip Seunghyun's thigh, he squeezed the supple flesh, kneading it with his fingers and making the boy whimper softly. He licked at his lips, pulling on them with his teeth. Really, he could do this for hours, taking long, slow drinks from his mouth until the sun dipped low behind the trees. But the fire in his veins told him to take it easy, lest he lose his mind. Jiyong wasn't too keen on giving residents of the lake a free show, so he broke away to catch his breath, forehead pressed against Seunghyun's neck.

 

“Was that clear enough for you?” He whispered.

 

“Mmm...” the brunette hummed, stroking Jiyong's back..

 

It really was a miracle that they hadn't molested each other yet, seeing as how every time they were together the intensity of their sexual tension was almost suffocating. Even before their first kiss. But, if he was being honest, he enjoyed the feeling of constant anticipation. Of consciously falling for someone and never knowing when that line would actually be crossed. Jiyong sat up to look at Seunghyun, wondering what was going through his head. So he asked.

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

“You.”

 

“I see...anything in particular?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But you won't tell me.”

 

“Nope.” The brunette wore a secret smile and toyed with the hem of his shirt.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because.”

Jiyong paused to mull over his options. And then he had an idea.

 

“Are you ticklish?”

 

“What?”

 

“I said, are you ticklish?”

 

“Um...”

 

There was an unmistakable flash of fear in Seunghyun's eyes and Jiyong started laughing because now he had the ultimate weapon. Before the boy had a chance to escape, he attacked him with wiggling fingers, running them up and down his sides and going for the armpits. Seunghyun howled with laughter, twisting and writhing and trying so hard to get away but it was no use.

 

“Tell me, damnit!” Jiyong demanded, grinning and giggling right along with him.

 

“No!” The brunette cried, finally rolling far enough away from his grabby hands to scramble into a standing position.

 

He leapt up from his spot on the wooden slats, creeping closer to Seunghyun who was wiping tears from his eyes. Neither of them could keep a straight face at this point. In fact Jiyong couldn't take more than a few steps forward without doubling over with more peals of laughter, but he kept advancing on the boy little by little. When he lunged for another attack he wasn't expecting Seunghyun to grab him around the waist. Nor was he expecting him to lift his squirming body up and toss him directly into the lake. Jiyong may or may not have shrieked before he hit the water and sunk beneath the surface.

 

“Oh my god,” he spluttered once he'd come back up. “I'm gonna kill you.”

 

“It was the only way to save myself.” Seunghyun was smiling down at him looking rather smug.

 

“You're still a jerk.” Jiyong stuck his tongue out and swam back to the edge of the dock.

 

The brunette reached down to help him out of the water, which was his first mistake. Because as soon as he'd latched on to his arm, Jiyong yanked back with all his might, sending Seunghyun flying headfirst into the depths with a loud splash. Oh sweet, sweet revenge.

 

“I gotta hand it to you,” the boy coughed and wiped the hair from his eyes. “That was pretty good.”

 

“I try,” He smirked, treading a bit closer.

 

Seunghyun's hair was all over the place, sticking to his cheeks and getting caught in his eyelashes. Reaching out with both hands, Jiyong smoothed the strands into place, slicking them back over his head. It was the first time he'd ever seen the boy's face without those messy bangs hanging in his eyes and he'd have to be dead for it not to take his breath away. His hands lingered, cradling Seunghyun's cheeks as he openly admired those exquisite features. Fuck, but he was gorgeous. So gorgeous that it was distracting and Jiyong almost forgot to keep kicking his legs in order to stay afloat.

 

“We, uh...we should probably get out so we can dry off in time to ride home.” But the boy didn't pull away, eyes boring into his.

 

“Probably,” he murmured distantly.

 

And he would have listened if not for the dark look in Seunghyun's eyes. They seemed to bounce so easily from playful to serious and back, the undercurrent of desire always pulling them every which way. He swallowed hard, stomach doing flip-flops. The boy took hold of one of his wrists, pulling it away from his cheek to press his lips to the center of Jiyong's palm. He shivered, curling his fingers around the brunette's.

 

“Come on,” Seunghyun said, pulling them both towards more shallow waters so they could climb up onto the dock once more.

 

Completely soaking wet, they spread themselves out on the warm wood under the warm sun in order to dry their clothes as much as they could. Jiyong had his legs propped up and his head resting against the boy's stomach, hands still clasped and fingers woven tight. He held their joined hands over his chest, stroking Seunghyun's damp skin with his thumb and watching the clouds make their slow progression across the sky. Silence hung over them, an absence of words that he'd grown accustomed to. He didn't particularly mind it because they spoke so much louder when they weren't talking. Once Jiyong started concentrating on the steady in and out of Seunghyun's breathing he promptly drifted off into a light sleep, lulled by the rhythm and the heat of his body. And ever so softly, on the edge of his consciousness, he could hear the boy humming as he gently stroked Jiyong's wet hair.

 


	7. Tightrope: Part 2

 

Even though they'd been soaking wet, Jiyong still managed to slip completely into unconsciousness. The warmth of the sun coupled with the comfort of Seunghyun's body was too potent a combination for him to resist the pull of slumber. The brunette must have dozed off as well, seeing as when he opened his eyes the sky above him was an inky black painted with the glowing specks of stars. He groaned, moving to rub at his eyes but the boy's grip on his hand was like a vice. Jiyong sat up and looked down at a stirring Seunghyun, the faint light from the waning moon highlighting his cheekbones, his still damp hair clinging to neck and forehead. There was an accentuated softness to the boy's face in sleep. It made him look younger, almost childlike. Jiyong mused on what he'd been like when he was small. Was he a shy child? Exuberant? Mischievous? A part of him wished they'd known each other then, been childhood friends that grew up together. It was hard to believe they'd only been acquainted for a few months instead of a lifetime.

 

He hadn't noticed that the boy had opened his eyes as he continued to stare, heart nearly exploding in his chest when he felt a hand press against his face, breath coming in short puffs. Seunghyun's thumb sluggishly dragged over his bottom lip and all he could do was sigh, unwilling to break the strange hushed spell that had suddenly wrapped around them. A cool breeze picked up, rustling his hair like the leaves on the trees. The tickling sensation of the air left goosebumps on his skin, the pressure of the boy's fingers on his face disturbed the butterflies in his stomach, the heavy weight of longing curled tightly in his gut. Jiyong wondered how it was possible to want someone so fervently and still survive being in their presence for such prolonged periods of time. He'd been well aware of the dangers from the beginning, he just wasn't expecting his attraction to be so absolute. There were moments when he thought it was getting easier to control himself, and then there were moments like these, when he felt like a single stroke from one of those fingers would unmake him.

 

Seunghyun pulled himself up into a sitting position and the distance between them vanished, faces so close that even in the dark Jiyong could make out small details like the soft spread of the boy's eyelashes. The hand on his cheek shifted, gliding up to massage at his hairline, fingers sinking into the tangled brown mess atop his head. Eyes fluttering shut, he arched into the caresses. Lips parted, breathing shallow.

 

“Sorry if I startled you,” Seunghyun whispered.

 

“It's okay,” he breathed, unable to speak much louder.

 

“I'm going to assume it's pretty late.” The boy was massaging the hairs at the nape of his neck now.

 

“Or early.”

 

“Or early,” the boy laughed quietly. “Sorry for that as well, I shouldn't have fallen asleep.”

 

“Don't be, it was nice.” Jiyong was melting under those fingers, leaning almost all of his weight against the brunette's body. “But if you continue like this, you might have to carry me back.”

 

“I wouldn't mind...” Seunghyun dipped down to brush his lips over Jiyong's forehead.

 

He smiled as the boy didn't stop, nuzzling at his face and rubbing their noses together, the utter sweetness of his actions making his heart more wobbly than it had ever been. It was as if Seunghyun had taken their professed mutual attraction as permission to be as lovey-dovey as possible and it was killing him slowly but surely. Not that he didn't enjoy it, he  _definitely_  enjoyed it. Jiyong just didn't know if he could handle this much stimulation on such a consistent basis. Especially since his dick was demanding immediate attention.

 

“We should get going,” he said, willing himself not to tilt his head forward and claim the boy's mouth with his own because otherwise they'd never leave.

 

Seunghyun drew back far enough to look at him directly and paused. He averted his gaze, cleared his throat gently, licked his lips.

 

“Would you like to come back to my apartment?”

 

The question took him by surprise. It was a bold move coming from The Marshmallow and even though it was in the same building as the cafe, taking that step meant inviting yet another level of intimacy. He wasn't sure he could handle that right now. Though a part of him wanted it so desperately, the impulse to give the boy everything flaring up again. Jiyong deliberated for quite some time.

 

“You're allowed to say no,” Seunghyun murmured, the tightness in his voice betraying his anxiety.

 

“It's not that,” he reached out to press a hand to the boy's chest, just over his swiftly beating heart. “I'm worried we're getting a little ahead of ourselves.”

 

“If I promise to keep my hands to myself, will that convince you?” Smirking, the boy put his arms behind his back.

 

“Don't.” Jiyong clenched the fabric of the brunette's shirt and ducked his head, not quite hiding his wide grin. “I like it when you don't keep your hands to yourself.”

 

“Ah, I see,” Seunghyun chuckled, arms reappearing to circle his waist and pull him close. “Then is it that you think I'm planning on whisking you off to my bed?”

 

He had to giggle at that. If only the boy knew.

 

“No.” Jiyong shook his head and played with the neckline of Seunghyun's shirt, tips of his fingers absently rubbing the skin of the boy's collarbones. “It's more that I just don't trust myself.”

 

“Why not?” The brunette's hands ghosted up and down his sides and he shivered again.

 

Jiyong bent forward to whisper into his ear.

 

“Because I want you so much it hurts.”

 

The boy's movements stilled and there were a handful of seconds where that line of tension between them quivered, the possibility of their tightly bound restraint crumbling to dust almost a reality. An image of the two of them ravishing each other flashed across Jiyong's mind like lightning and hit him solidly in the pit of his stomach. But then it passed. And Seunghyun pulled away to look at him again.

 

“If it's any consolation, I could probably count, on one hand, the number of hours a day that I'm not thinking about you.” The Marshmallow bit his lip. “Have been, since the first day.'

 

Jiyong's heart constricted in his chest and he laughed.

 

“That doesn't make this any easier.”

 

“It's not supposed to be easy, you dork.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I'm serious.” The boy smiled and sighed.

 

“But-”

 

“Okay, listen.” Seunghyun took a deep breath. “I like you so much that I've already compiled a list of books I want to read out loud to you in their entirety. I like you so much because I have failed to find a single thing about you that annoys me as a coworker, which is sort of a big deal. I like you so much that I want to share embarrassing anecdotes from my adolescence simply to watch you throw your head back and laugh. And I like you so much that I wouldn't regret tumbling into bed with you when we've only just started.”

 

A delighted thrill ran through Jiyong at Seunghyun's confession and his longing grew so heavy he couldn't hold onto it anymore, let it slip from his tenuous grasp. He crawled forward very slowly to straddle the boy's lap, knees digging into the hard wood of the dock. The aimless roving of Seunghyun's hands over his body was driving him mad, the heat of his palms and fingers branding thighs, hips, and ass. He was sure the boy could feel his erection straining against the zipper of his jeans as he shifted closer.

 

“You honestly like me that much?” He had to ask.

 

“Probably more.” Seunghyun slipped those hands underneath his shirt and he gasped.

 

“Why?”

 

The boy took a moment to collect his thoughts, pressed his nose against Jiyong's neck, and inhaled.

 

“Because there's so much light inside of you,” the boy spoke into his skin. “And it escapes in tiny increments through your smiles and your laughter, your speech and your intellect, your eyes and your touch.”

 

He swallowed thickly against the unexpected lump in his throat.

 

“You think I merely sat on that counter and read for weeks on end. But I watched  _you_  just as much as you watched  _me_.”

 

“Really?” Jiyong threaded his fingers through Seunghyun's hair, holding his head tightly.

 

“Yes.”

 

The boy trailed open-mouthed kisses up to his jaw, over his cheek. Filled with some strange joy, Jiyong gave up on being gentle and turned to crush his lips against the brunette's in a halfhearted attempt to quell the frenetic, unbridled dancing inside of his chest. As he expected though, the feeling of those lips on him only made the wildness worse. He kissed Seunghyun with his entire body, pouring everything he had into the act. It was risky, but after The Marshmallow's honest speech he felt the need to be honest too, displaying the depth of his affection with his touch and his tongue. Jiyong moaned into the heat of the boy's mouth, spine arching and hips rolling. They were eager in their enjoyment of each other, kisses turning sloppy and fingers fumbling for more skin. He promised himself that he wouldn't let this escalate beyond their control. He didn't want their first time together to be on the rough wooden slats of the dock, didn't like that he couldn't see Seunghyun's body beyond what he could make out with his hands.

 

 

When the swell of arousal seemed destined to bury him alive, Jiyong ripped himself away from the unrelenting sweetness of the boy's lips and sucked in air like he'd just learned how to breathe. Seunghyun's grip on him bordered on painful but he liked it, liked knowing he wasn't alone in feeling like he was possessed by a feral animal. He constantly surprised himself with the ferocity of his desire.

 

“I don't know if I can move,” he chuckled.

 

“Me either.” The brunette nipped at his chin.

 

“The answer to your question is yes, by the way.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Jiyong rolled his eyes. For all the boy's confidence he still managed to fall victim to his insecurities. Which only made him human, he supposed.

 

“Do I need to kiss you again to make you stop second-guessing yourself?”

 

Seunghyun grinned and shook his head.

 

“Sass me again and I'll have you flat on your back with your legs in the air,” the boy purred, leaning into him.

 

“Is that a promise?”

 

Laughing now, The Marshmallow shoved him off of his lap and stood, grabbing Jiyong's hands and yanking him up from his sprawled position on the dock. Together, they gathered their things in silence, more laughter spilling from their mouths as they tried not to accidentally knock anything into the water in their partial blindness. They even managed to find their bikes without hurting themselves, stumbling up to the dirt path in the dark and giggling at their mutual clumsiness. It took them a while to reach the main road. They'd been out so long the streetlamps and the asphalt felt foreign. A car whizzed by and Jiyong mourned the loss of their microcosm by the lake. He would have dreaded going into the cafe tomorrow as well if not for the perfect creature that was his coworker walking next to him with an adorable smile hanging from his lips.

 

The sky had lightened considerably by the time they reached The Atomic, the hushed chirping of birds marking the arrival of early morning. Seunghyun locked their bicycles up against the back of the building and then took Jiyong by the hand, leading him through yet another door he didn't know existed and up a narrow flight of stairs.

 

“I apologize in advance, it's sort of messy.”

 

The boy's apartment wasn't messy at all, actually. Just cluttered. Lived in. Cozy. It was comfortable and small, reeked of Seunghyun's scent. Jiyong already knew he'd be spending an unhealthy amount of time here, already knew it felt more like home than his own tiny apartment.

 

“Want some coffee?” The brunette motioned to the small kitchen table as he gravitated towards the counter.

 

Nodding, he sat down, chin propped up with one hand while he waited. Seunghyun's body moved in the same gracefully controlled way as when he was working downstairs. It seemed he didn't know any other way of motion and Jiyong was grateful for that because he didn't think he'd ever tire of watching him. In fact, he'd be content in observing Seunghyun forever. Which should have been a red flag that he wasn't being careful with his heart. But love wasn't careful. And he still wasn't any good at playing it safe.

 

The boy set down a steaming mug of black coffee in front of him and he smiled nice and wide in mute thanks. Seunghyun tucked a finger under his chin and leaned down to brush his mouth over Jiyong's, barely applying any pressure. It was teasing, yet innocent, and it disturbed the butterflies in his stomach. Pulling away, the boy sat down across from him, extending his long legs into Jiyong's personal space as was his habit. They stared at each other for a long time, slumped in their chairs while their calves and thighs flirted. Eventually Jiyong just propped his feet up on Seunghyun's lap and the boy took off his shoes and socks in order to knead into the tightness of his tendons with his thumbs. At first he was sort of useless, head lolling back and mouth hanging open in divine ecstasy. He'd never had a foot massage before, didn't know they could be this fucking good. Jiyong groaned, amazed that this simple activity was sort of totally turning him on. Though that could have been an effect that was uniquely Seunghyun's.

 

They remained there until the sun crept over the horizon, content in their shared silence. He was still amazed that he'd found another human being that didn't suffer from the compulsive need to talk. Not that either of them lacked the necessary words. No, that would never change. But the act of basking in the presence of another person was a rare experience and Jiyong was happy that, in this way, they seemed to suit each other. In most ways, he was quickly discovering. His pulse pounded insistently against his wrist and neck, as if he wasn't already aware of its erratic behavior and what it meant. Seunghyun's eyes crinkled at the corners, grinning lazily at him while he stroked the soft curve of his instep. Jiyong sighed and let the gentle heat of those hands traverse the length of his body, let it warm his bones, let it take root in the confines of his heart and make its home there. Whether for an eternity or not, he didn't know. But he did know that Seunghyun was, quite possibly, the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

 


	8. A Certain Doubt

 

Despite their declarations of desire, not a whole lot had changed in regard to their daily routine. Much as Jiyong liked working at the cafe, he wished they could escape upstairs to Seunghyun's apartment or the rooftop garden and never leave. He wanted to hide away from the world, make his own out of the circle of the boy's arms and the cradle of his thighs. The ever-present need to be around The Marshmallow at all times was almost crippling. Even when they were standing right next to each other behind the counter because it wasn't enough to just be beside him. Jiyong didn't know how to express this need without making an ass out of himself, still afraid that his extreme fondness for the brunette would chase him away. But then Seunghyun would wait until there was a lull, the cafe quiet and almost empty, to sneak up on him and steal a too quick kiss from his lips. Or Jiyong would be leaning against the counter next to the boy's swinging legs as he read and feel fingers stroking the back of his head, the skin of his neck. Or he would catch the boy staring at him with a sweet smile on his face and that fear melted away into nothing.

 

Jiyong couldn't figure out why he was so suddenly unsure of himself. His usual levels of confidence seemed to disappear around Seunghyun. Perhaps it was because he didn't believe someone this lovely actually existed, and that said lovely person thought he was lovely too. It was always difficult to accept that you were desirable. Lovable.  _Loved_. He yelped and winced, burning his finger on the arm of the steamer and dropping the half-heated milk because he wasn't paying attention, head too full of hazardous ideas. Too full of Seunghyun.

 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he cursed, cradling the angry, red flesh in his other hand.

 

The boy was hovering over him in less than a heartbeat, inspecting the wound and shoving him towards the sink to drown the burn in ice-cold water while he finished filling the botched drink order. Once the customer had left, Seunghyun was plastered to his side again, gingerly taking his hand so he could bend down to look at it.

 

“What the hell did you do?”

 

“What the fuck does it look like? Ow!” He ripped his hand away from the brunette before he did any more damage by poking at the burn with his stupid fingers.

 

“You're such a klutz,” Seunghyun chuckled, dragging him into the back room.

 

“I am not a klutz, damnit. I just got distracted.” Jiyong pouted and sat in one of the extra metal chairs while the boy rummaged around for the first-aid kit.

 

“You seem to be doing that a lot lately.” The boy reached up to snatch the small plastic box from the top shelf.

 

“Yeah, I wonder why...” he said quietly to himself and rolled his eyes.

 

Seunghyun's shirt lifted away as he stretched his arms skyward and for a brief few seconds the throbbing ache in Jiyong's finger migrated to fill up the cage of his ribs when he saw that sliver of golden stomach.

 

“What was that?” Seunghyun turned around, kneeling on the floor in front of him.

 

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” he mumbled, blushing.

 

Cool ointment met his skin and he shivered, trying not to flinch every time Seunghyun put pressure on the tender area. Instead he just focused on the boy's body heat swallowing him in its intoxicating swell. Jiyong watched him closely, observed his total concentration in what he was doing, hands moving with the utmost care. A bandage was placed on his finger, followed by a pair of lips.

 

“I know kissing it won't actually make it better.” Seunghyun looked up at him, still holding his hand. “But it always made the pain seem a little more manageable when I was a kid.”

 

“Thank you,” he said, caressing the boy's palm with his thumb.

 

“Did it work?”

 

Jiyong leaned forward, elbows digging into his legs as he brought their faces closer together.

 

“I think another would do the trick.” He flicked his eyes down to the boy's mouth, words barely a whisper. “Y'know, for good measure.”

 

They breathed in unison, staring at each other with ill concealed hunger, the boy's eyes dark and soft. He bit his lip and clenched the warm hand encased in his. The pause only lasted a moment, though it seemed to stretch out into infinity. The wanting. The anticipating. He felt like he might break. Seunghyun smirked and tilted his head to finally claim his lips, pushing until Jiyong's back was flat against the chair and he was kneeling between his legs. He squeezed his thighs around a narrow waist, arms reaching out and clinging to soft fabric. The brunette's tongue slipped between Jiyong's teeth to tangle with his and he sighed. In his chest, the pounding rivaled a stampede of wild beasts. It was so simple, the way they came together, the way they touched. But the effect on his body was catastrophic. He felt like he was going to erupt, the molten lust inside of him churning excitedly. Seunghyun's fingers dug into his thighs, tongue gliding over his lips, teeth pulling on the plump flesh. This kiss was more than what he was expecting, was more than what the boy had even intended, surely. But they never seemed to be very skilled at holding back. At having any kind of control at all. Moaning, he slid his uninjured hand beneath the boy's t-shirt to splay out over the flatness of his belly. Seunghyun pressed against that hand, shoving himself further into the core of Jiyong's body, into the fire.

 

They disregarded any sounds from the front of the cafe, lost as they were in the pull of twin orbits. When he slid his hand up along the boy's ribcage to graze a nipple with the pads of his fingers, Seunghyun gasped and jerked back. The brunette panted, grip tight on Jiyong's legs.

 

“Sorry,” he emitted a breathless laugh. “I got a little carried away.”

 

“ _You_  got carried away?” The boy chuckled. “I think I deserve some credit here too.”

 

His hand was still buried underneath Seunghyun's shirt, the temptation to take that nipple between his fingers and squeeze was an electric current crawling up his arm.

 

“What you deserve, is to be punished for teasing me all day.” He narrowed his eyes.

 

The boy raised one of his thick brows and leaned forward to whisper in Jiyong's ear.

 

“I think your definition of teasing greatly differs from mine.” Seunghyun's hot breath tickled his skin, tongue darting out to taste the shell of his ear. “You have no idea.”

 

Withdrawing, the brunette rose from his kneeling position on the floor and put the first-aid kit back in its place, then walked out of the room without a word.

 

Jiyong inhaled deeply and let the air slowly leave his lungs. Staring at the blank wall across from him, he tried to calm his racing pulse. How the boy could just up and leave after a kiss like that, he didn't know. Because he was completely wrecked. Blood boiling, jeans uncomfortably tight. His lips ached and his heart throbbed. Fuck, did Seunghyun fight dirty. He wanted to throw the boy up against the wall, wanted to make him tremble, beg for more. He wanted to tease and tantalize. But he doubted his ability to follow through without getting himself too worked up. Without essentially tossing himself overboard only to lose himself to the undertow. Not to mention they were still at work. He was just so fucking frustrated. This loss of control shook him, made him feel...unbalanced. Jiyong closed his eyes, sighed, and rose from the metal chair to return to the front room.

 

Everything was jumbled together in his brain. His desire, his affection, his lame insecurities. It was so stupid. Seunghyun liked him. He liked Seunghyun. Then what was his problem? Why couldn't he make sense of this  _thing_ , when making sense of every other relationship had been so easy? Jiyong stood off to the side, nibbling on his lip while he stared into space and thought about the boy's sweet, undeserved words from the night before.

 

“You're gonna tear through the skin if you keep doing that.” The brunette pressed his thumb down on his bottom lip, pulling it from between his teeth and caressing the abused flesh.

 

Jiyong felt his stomach drop, focused on breathing instead of the concern in Seunghyun's dark eyes.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.

 

“Are you okay?” The Marshmallow ran the backs of his fingers over his cheek. “You've been kinda out of it today.”

 

“I'm fine.” He offered a small smile, holding that hand to his face.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Don't worry about me.”

 

“Yeah, that's not gonna happen.” The boy laughed at himself, tucking strands of hair behind Jiyong's ear.

 

“Seunghyun.”

 

“What? It's the truth. I can't  _not_  think about you.” He looked up at the ceiling. “ _Worry_ , about you.”

 

A sudden wave of emotion crashed into him and he desperately wished they weren't at the cafe. It was so hard to concentrate on being professional when you were in the middle of falling in love. Jiyong froze, caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

 

“We've got customers,” he said, and the boy's hand fell.

 

Business picked up after that and they were so busy they hardly had a moment to think, let alone pause and talk about their feelings. But somehow The Marshmallow still got under his skin, would probably always be there, tattooed a thousand layers deep. As they danced around one another behind the counter, Seunghyun would intentionally stay close, touching him in small ways, sharing his warmth. Jiyong knew it was meant to be a comfort, but it only made him want to stop everything, stop the rotation of the earth, stop time and wrap the boy up in his arms forever. Yes, Seunghyun was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. But he was also the worst. Nothing mattered more, nothing was more precious, or more desperately needed. And that scared him. Because it had the potential to be taken away so easily. Jiyong wasn't sure he could withstand having that happen. Wiping down the espresso machine, he wondered why his brain was so intent on sabotaging this fledgling romance when his heart had selfishly given itself away within the first few seconds. And he really had to stop over-analyzing so much. One of these days he might start believing his own bullshit.

 

They didn't have an opportunity to talk again until they were standing outside. He moved to unlock his bike but Seunghyun stopped him by enveloping him in a hug. Unable to prevent a pleased smile, he clutched tightly at his waist.

 

“Wanna go to The Hideout tonight?” Jiyong played with the fabric of The Marshmallow's shirt.

 

“I thought you didn't like that place.”

 

“But you do.”

 

“I wouldn't want you to have a shitty time.”

 

“Impossible.”

 

“Why's that?”

 

“Because I'll have you.”

 

“Ah, well in that case...”

 

Jiyong laughed and stepped out of the boy's embrace.

 

“I'll take that as a yes, then.” He executed an awkward wave, turned. “See you later.”

 

“Not so fast, cowboy.”

 

He'd taken all of two steps when he felt fingers latch on to his wrist and pull. Then there were lips at his brow, at his temple. Dusting over his fluttering eyelids, flushed cheekbones, the tip of his nose.

 

“Later, Ji.” The brunette smiled against his mouth, kissed him softly, let the caress linger.

 

It felt a little bit like falling, the temptation to rock forward on the balls of his feet and linger a little longer. But Seunghyun slipped out from his grasp and disappeared again without a word.

 

He didn't understand how he was supposed to function like a normal human being when the sly bastard continued to rip the rug out from under him. Jiyong opened his eyes after he heard the back door slam shut, puffing his cheeks up with air and forcing it out in a single breath. This really wasn't fair.

 

It took him ten minutes to emancipate his bike because his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

 

Fucking hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back pressed up against the same wall, Jiyong waited with beer in hand. He was sort of early. But he couldn't help himself, his nervous energy had turned him into such a spaz he'd cleaned every surface in his apartment. Twice. So he'd kicked himself out before he fainted from all the fumes. Now he was here, feeling like an idiot as he watched small clusters of flannel-clad hipsters drink and laugh and smoke. Glancing at the clock on his phone for the thousandth time, Jiyong cursed the needy little voice in his head that hoped Seunghyun would show up early too.

 

Eight o'clock came and went. The first band had already finished playing their set, yet the boy was nowhere to be seen. He'd had four beers and was well on his way to destroying a fifth, still checking his phone every thirty seconds. Seunghyun hadn't returned his call or responded to any of his texts. Jiyong refused to send any more for fear of seeming like a nagging girlfriend. Which he totally was wasn't. Any number of things could have happened to prevent him from coming. And telling him why. For two hours. A flash of panic suggested that he could be seriously injured or dying but he wouldn't indulge in that line of thought either because he was too drunk to deal with any reality that didn't involve the boy merely forgetting. Which still made his heart hurt. But it was the easiest scenario to swallow.

 

Jiyong banged his head into the wall, trying to force all negative thought from his brain but it wasn't working. All sorts of ridiculous, unfounded words of self-deprecation were flinging themselves to and fro. He knew they were all insane, but little niggling doubts didn't function like that. They appeared out of nowhere, without a single grain of truth or shred of common sense, and took root, like an overgrown weed, until It was the only thing occupying your skull. Almost always it was worse with the addition of alcohol. He groaned, slouching further into himself and ordered another beer from the passing waitress.

 

The hangover would be worth it if he could successfully not feel feelings. If just for a few minutes. Longer would be preferable, but he wasn't terribly picky at the moment. He closed his eyes against the tiny sea of smiling strangers and allowed the deafening bass flowing from the speakers to wash over him. Hoped it would make him numb, as opposed to further turning into an emotional idiot.

 

Because even more than his treacherous thoughts, Jiyong just wanted to kill the sad, pathetic ache in his chest.

 


	9. Learning Curve

 

It had taken another hour, another set, another beer (or three) for Jiyong to acknowledge the fact that Seunghyun wasn't coming. He'd stayed until the very end, though, shoulder-blades glued to the wall, foolishly hoping that he would feel familiar fingers grasp his at any moment. The alcohol sloshing around in his system had turned him maudlin and morose. Moreso than he would have been without it. So he'd stumbled home, clumsy feet repeatedly knocking into his bike wheels, and dove directly into his bed. Sleep eluded him even though the haze of booze lay thickly over his eyes, his brain. Thoughts of Seunghyun kept barreling in, no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything and everything else. But the problem was that anything and everything would always remind him of the boy. Jiyong let out a groan of frustration and punched his pillow. He hated that he liked Seunghyun so much. Hated this helplessness. If this is what being in love really felt like, then he didn't fucking want it.

 

An angry sigh forced its way out through his nose and he closed his eyes, tired of glaring at nothing.

 

The alarm clock next to his bed shrieked its daily wake-up call and Jiyong immediately wanted to destroy the world in its entirety. He grabbed for the stupid hunk of metal and plastic with slow fingers, mashed the snooze button, then proceeded to throw it across the room. The result was unsatisfying though, because it landed in a pile of his dirty laundry instead of shattering into a million pieces like he was hoping. He clung tightly to the blanket wrapped around his fully clothed body as the night before came rushing back to him, hammering with such force inside his head. Crawling out of his cocoon today wouldn't be pleasant. Though he felt he deserved an award for even thinking about it. Between the excessive amounts of beer and the pain of being stood up, he was amazed he hadn't thrown up yet, what with the acid churning away inside his poor stomach. Jiyong clenched his teeth against a wave of nausea and finally pushed himself from the womb-like warmth of his bed.

 

He knew he should probably eat something, but another tidal wave rolled through his bowels and he aborted his migration towards the kitchen. Instead, he ended up in the bathroom with a handful of aspirin and a glass of water. Jiyong grimaced, choking down the tiny pills and gulping as much liquid as he could before his stomach cried out in protest. He looked at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, took in the dark half-circles under his eyes, the pallor of his cheeks, his hair simultaneously flattened against his skull and defying the laws of gravity. As he continued to stare, he wondered what would happen once he got to the cafe this morning and sighed heavily. Wondered what Seunghyun's excuse would be, if he even had one. Frowning, Jiyong walked out of the bathroom, attempting to convince himself that showering and changing his clothes was a better idea than burying himself in his bed. He ran a hand over his face, rolled his eyes, and walked back into the bathroom.

 

The windows of The Atomic Cafe were still dark when he arrived, pausing at the entrance of the alleyway. This was unusual given the late hour. Was Seunghyun even here? He dismounted from his bike, slowly making his way to the back of the building. Jiyong's heart beat a wild dance, afraid that the boy would be waiting for him. More afraid that he wouldn't. But he rounded the corner and Seunghyun was sitting in the old, rusted chair by the door, face in his hands and fingers clenching chunks of his own hair. At least he knew what he'd done. The sound of his steps scuffing on the pavement alerted The Marshmallow to his presence and his head jerked up, the tortured look in his eyes launching an arrow straight through Jiyong's chest. He froze, grip tight on the handles of his bike.

 

“I'm an asshole,” Seunghyun said, deep voice a bit rough around the edges. “I'm sorry.”

 

The arrow was still burrowed in his heart and he couldn't get his tongue to move. He lowered his gaze, walking over to rest his bike against the brick wall. The straps on his backpack were incredibly fascinating all of a sudden. He heard the boy get up, could see his legs pacing back and forth in his periphery.

 

“All right, yeah, I don't deserve to be forgiven immediately, but if you're not even gonna talk to me, Ji...”

 

It wasn't that he didn't have anything to say, on the contrary. However, a small part of him longed to see the boy dance.

 

“I'm not angry, if that's what you're worried about.” He kept his eyes lowered, speaking to the ground. “Just, I don't know, a bit sad?”

 

“Please look at me,” the boy pleaded.

 

Jiyong stubbornly resisted for a few minutes, small consolation for the hours he lost the night before. That, and he wasn't ready to be on the receiving end of Seunghyun's distressed stare. It was clear that the boy was pretty broken up about his absence at The Hideout. In the scheme of things, this was merely a hiccup, and he felt sort of silly for being so upset over something so stupid. Turning to face him, Jiyong tried not to frown.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Dongwook happened,” Seunghyun sighed, carding his fingers through already mussed mop of black hair. “He came over after work with a case of beer and I'm ashamed to admit I got tanked and fell asleep by the time evening rolled around.”

 

The boy grimaced and blushed faintly, embarrassed by his behavior. Jiyong wanted to laugh, wanted to roll his eyes, wanted to permanently eliminate Dongwook from the earth's surface. A tendril of jealousy coiled in the pit of his stomach, heavy and unwelcome. He didn't realize he'd have to compete for Seunghyun's attention.

 

“Ah.” Nervous, he flicked his eyes away and back. “Is this you shifting the blame?”

 

“What?” The boy almost scoffed. “No, of course not.”

 

He continued to play with the straps of his backpack, debating whether he should lay all his cards on the table or let this become water under the bridge. He cleared his throat. Fuck it.

 

“Should I be concerned that Dongwook might turn into a point of contention between us?”

 

“Jiyong.” Seunghyun stepped forward, herding him into the wall next to their bikes. “Are you jealous?”

 

The boy's arms were a cage, palms pressed against the brick on either side of his head. He focused on the broad chest filling his vision and sniffed, unintentionally inhaling the warm, clean scent of Seunghyun's skin. His resolve to not hug the other boy was swiftly disintegrating. But had he ever stood a chance, honestly? All The Marshmallow had to do was exist and Jiyong would always bend. Hopefully he would never bend so far that he splintered and broke.

 

“Maybe,” Jiyong muttered, nudging the tip of the boy's shoe with his own.

 

Gentle, rolling laughter filtered into his ears, followed by a hand lifting his chin. Those mahogany depths were no longer tormented, instead overflowing with fond humor. Seunghyun smiled at him, soft and sweet.

 

“You're adorable.” The boy's thumb swept back and forth over the curve of his lower lip. “And we're both idiots.”

 

“Are we?” He nearly closed his eyes, yearning to soak in the teasing caresses.

 

“I am truly sorry about last night. I'd never deliberately hurt you, surely you must know that.”

 

“It would seem that alcohol did neither of us any favors.”

 

Seunghyun leaned closer, hot breath tickling his cheek. His heart quivered. He was so easy.

 

“Forgive me?” The boy whispered, nuzzling closer still.

 

“Yes.” he replied without hesitation.

 

Jiyong tilted his head and crushed their mouths together, eager fingers clinging to the front of Seunghyun's shirt.

 

They melted into one another, the boy's body enveloping his completely. He let his hands roam, smoothing over the flat planes of the brunette's torso and winding his arms so tightly around his waist. There was a hunger and a desperation growing inside of him. A hunger and a desperation that went beyond simple physical desire and it was absolutely terrifying. Jiyong delved deeper into the boy's mouth. Wondered if he could taste the raw need on his tongue, or in the way his spine arched toward him. Like it was trying to fuse itself with his skeleton. Gasping, Seunghyun tore himself away and tucked his face into the crook of Jiyong's neck.

 

“I want you so fucking bad right now I can barely stand it.” The brunette's voice wavered. “If we didn't have to open, I would drag you upstairs and show you exactly how much of an idiot you are for being jealous.”

 

Anything he said at that point would probably just come out as a wanton moan, so he settled for squeezing the boy even tighter and buried his nose in his hair.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Work was slow, only a handful of customers coming and going as the morning dissolved into the afternoon. Jiyong spent most of his shift nursing a cup of too sugary coffee, hip glued to Seunghyun's thigh where he sat on the counter next to the sink. It was all they allowed themselves. The boy cradled a thick novel in his hands, but hadn't turned a single page for hours. His thoughts ambled without direction, never lingering on any one thing for more than a few seconds. That is, until his brain chose to replay, in obnoxious detail, the way the boy had kissed him earlier. His stomach muscles clenched and the pads of his fingers found his lips. He could still feel the slide of his wet tongue along the roof of his mouth. Jiyong must have stood there like that for quite a while, because his coffee was cold and Seunghyun was tugging on his wrist.

 

“Hey Ji. We can go now.”

 

“Hmm?” He hummed, waking from his trance. “Go where?”

 

Smirking, the boy shook his head ad pried the forgotten mug from his grasp to rinse it in the sink.

 

“What were you thinking about just now? You looked possessed.”

 

“Um, I was thinking of you, actually.”

 

Seunghyun barked a sharp laugh, setting the mug in the drying rack and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Well that explains everything.”

 

“Obviously,” he deadpanned, nodding.

 

They got so caught up in staring at one another that their coworkers had to manually force them out of the cafe. Jiyong's cheeks refused to cool, stained a deep red. He remembered what was going on when the boy grabbed his hand, pulling him up the stairs to his apartment. Seunghyun had promised to make amends for being a jerk. He'd insisted that he wasn't, in fact, a jerk but kept his mouth shut after The Marshmallow had glowered at him comically.

 

“Coffee?”

 

“Please.” He smiled and turned to observe the myriad framed paintings and posters covering the walls.

 

“Uh, Jiyong?”

 

“What?”

 

“You have to let go of my hand first.”

 

Looking down, he saw that his fingers were indeed woven rather tightly with Seunghyun's and he winced. He might as well have a blinking neon sign that said “I Love You” on his goddamn forehead. Jiyong loosened his death-grip and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 

“Sorry,” he said, biting his lip.

 

“Don't be.” The boy cupped his face, brushing a kiss over the knot in his brow. “I know I'm irresistible.”

 

“Oh god.” He shoved Seunghyun away, giggling. “Just go make the fucking coffee.”

 

With a parting wink, the brunette sauntered into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the foyer. The last time he was here he hadn't been able to look around much, so he welcomed the opportunity. The first thing he noticed was that there were books  _everywhere_. On tables, chairs, the floor, bursting from every shelf in every room. It was astounding, really. Jiyong was flipping through a gorgeously bound volume of Arthur Rackham illustrations when the boy emerged, twin steaming mugs clutched in each fist.

 

“You have more books than the public library.” He set Arthur down temporarily to take one of the cups.

 

“I wouldn't be surprised if that was true.” Seunghyun grinned, sipping at his coffee. “There's more in the bedroom, too.”

 

Right. The Bedroom. He failed not to envision fucking the boy while surrounded by towers of beautiful books. Gulping down a mouthful of perfectly sweetened black nectar (a fact that didn't go unnoticed, that bastard was too observant), he crouched down to return to his drooling over Mr. Rackham's masterpieces.

 

“His line-work has always blown me away.”

 

“Seriously.” Seunghyun sat down on the ground next to him. “My sister gave that to me as a birthday present.”

 

“She has good taste.”

 

“As do you.”

 

Jiyong eyed him critically and put the book back in its proper place. The Marshmallow was being awfully flirtatious, always going for the obvious line. It was cute, but he didn't need to lay it on so thick. He'd truly been forgiven.

 

“How many years did it take for you to collect all of these?” He crossed his legs, knee knocking into Seunghyun's.

 

“My entire life, basically. A lot of these belonged to my parents.” The boy shifted slightly, moving closer. “It runs in the family.”

 

“Do you have a good relationship with your parents?”

 

“I guess? I mean, we barely talk anymore, but I don't hate them or anything.” Seunghyun placed his hand on Jiyong's knee, rubbing absentminded circles over the bone. “What about you?”

 

“They live half an hour away, so I see them a bit more often than I'd like.”

 

“Any siblings?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Lucky.”

 

Jiyong chuckled and sighed, setting his empty mug aside. The boy's ministrations were building a small fire in his gut. If he continued, he knew it would spread.

 

“I've known a loneliness that would break your heart.”

 

He hadn't meant to be such a downer, but it was the truth. His childhood had been incredibly lonely, even with friends. Even with Jess. Maybe that's why he'd grown so fond of reading. People betrayed you. Books didn't. Seunghyun looked at him with sad eyes, putting his own mug down and rising to stand.

 

“Come on.” The brunette reached down with both hands to hoist him up from the floor.

 

Before he could say anything else, he was being crushed in the biggest bear hug he'd ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Jiyong clung to the taller boy and willed himself not to cry when he felt tender, soothing strokes along the length of his back. No human had ever shown him as much unexpected sweetness as the one currently in his arms. It was enough to cause his heart to swell and burst.

 

“I don't deserve you,” he mumbled into a warm shoulder.

 

“Everyone deserves to be loved.” Seunghyun spoke so quietly he nearly missed it.

 

And suddenly the tears he'd tried so hard to prevent collected and spilled over, getting caught in his eyelashes and soaking through the boy's shirt. He wasn't sure why he was crying, exactly. Sometimes it was all he could do. Sometimes his emotions got the best of him. Sometimes he was so fucking  _tired_  of the lonely ache that would resurface every now and then. It didn't happen as often as it used to, but the effect was crippling nonetheless.

 

“Hey.” Seunghyun drew back to wipe away the wet mess on his face. “Hey, it's all right.”

 

“This is embarrassing, I'm sorry,” he sniffled. “I haven't cried in so long.”

 

“You probably need it. Nothing wrong with shedding a few tears.”

 

Jiyong gave him a tiny smile, pressing his cheek further into the boy's palm.

 

“You're right.”

 

“I have an idea.” The boy's eyes brightened. “Wait here.”

 

The Marshmallow dropped a kiss on the bridge of his nose and disappeared into his bedroom. He choked out a humorless laugh, scrubbing away the last of the moisture. Could this day get any weirder? The answer was most likely yes. Jiyong shuffled over to the couch and let the cushions devour him.

 

“Do you like Douglas Adams?” Seunghyun reappeared, pile of books in hand.

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“How do you feel about poetry?”

 

“It depends on the poet.”

 

“Emily Dickinson?”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

“Cormac McCarthy?”

 

“Yes,” he laughed. “ _Seunghyun_.”

 

“What?”

 

“ _Why_?”

 

“I'm gonna read to you.” The boy waggled his eyebrows and sunk down on the opposite end of the couch. “Now get your cute ass over here.”

 

Oh.  _Oh._

 

Jiyong scooted towards the brunette until he was sitting beside him. Seunghyun leaned against the armrest, legs propped up on the cushions.

 

“A little bit further, don't be shy.”

 

He rolled his eyes, grinning, and rearranged his body so that he was nestled between the boy's thighs. Wasn't he just daydreaming about this yesterday? Long limbs engulfed Jiyong, his back pressed firmly to Seunghyun's chest.

 

“Is this what you meant when you said you were going to show me how much of an idiot I am for being jealous?” He failed to keep his amusement hidden.

 

“No.” The boy squirmed beneath him, brought his lips to his ear. “That involves me worshiping every inch of your body with my tongue until you come so hard that you can't move.”

 

“I see...” His throat tightened as he swallowed, breath snagging somewhere in his lungs. The promise in those words.

 

“But right now we're going to sit here and you're going to let me read to you.” Seunghyun positioned one of the books in front of them, arms circling Jiyong's waist and chin propped on his shoulder. “Ready?”

 

He hummed in affirmation and let his head rest against the boy's as he began.

 

“The story so far: In the beginning, the universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

 

For hours on end Seunghyun read from the stack of books he'd unearthed from his bedroom. Jiyong savored the deep timbre of The Marshmallow;s voice as it rumbled and reverberated inside of him. Sometimes it was lively and animated, other times smoother than silk. It was hard to focus on the stories because of this. He'd zone out every few minutes, distracted by the vibrations in his ribcage and what they were doing to his self-control. When he got tired of novels, he begged the boy to read from the volumes of poetry they hadn't touched yet. Whitman, Cummings, Auden, Baudelaire, Neruda, Plath, Hardy, Lorca, Wilde, Thoreau, Yeats, he wanted all of it. Wanted to hear all their marvelous words dripping from Seunghyun's lips.

 

“I  _will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers._ I will take the sun in my mouthand leap into the ripe air _._ Alive _,_ with closed eyesto dash against darkness.”

 

Like this, he drifted, lulled to sleep by a honeyed tongue and affectionate fingers combing through his hair.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Having stirred in slumber, he awoke with his face smushed into the crook of Seunghyun's neck. The boy's arms were still wrapped securely around him, cheek resting atop his head. Jiyong groaned and stretched, rousing his human pillow from his own nap. He rolled over, wedging himself between the boy and the couch.

 

“Hi.” He offered a sleepy smile, eyelids droopy.

 

“Hello,” Seunghyun murmured, reaching out to drag a thumb over his eyebrow.

 

“What time is it?” Jiyong glanced out the window. It was dark, but that didn't help him any.

 

“No idea. Why, is there somewhere more important you need to be?”

 

He shook his head. There would never be a place more important than where he was in that moment.

 

“You're so lovely when you sleep.” The brunette mapped the terrain of his face with slow caresses.

 

“Only when I sleep?” He teased. Seunghyun smirked knowingly.

 

“No, you're exquisite at all times.”

 

Blushing, Jiyong lowered his gaze and the boy leaned over to claim a kiss. He curled around him, instinct always to press closer, cling tighter, like the boy would evaporate into the air if he didn't hold on. He ran his tongue along the seam of his mouth, licked remnants of coffee and sugar from his lips. Seunghyun opened up to let him in. Jiyong wanted to crawl inside his mouth and curl up on his tongue. Wanted to be the only thing he spoke, the only thing he tasted. He wanted to build a home behind his teeth. Long fingers stole under the hem of his shirt, gliding over his skin and leaving tingling trails of sensitive flesh in the their wake. The boy moaned into his mouth when he slid a thigh between his legs, putting pressure on the hardness growing there. Seunghyun pushed against him, making them rise from the sofa together and leading them into his room.

 

The Marshmallow shut the door, shoving Jiyong against the hard wood and stripping off his t-shirt before removing his own. His wrists were pinned above his head as the boy plundered his mouth eagerly, chest heaving from the effort it took to keep breathing. Already he was shivering with anticipation. There were so many things he wanted right now. But he could only yield to those ravenous lips, paralyzed by his hummingbird heart and the rush of blood in his ears. Seunghyun's hands released their grip to drift down his arms. Over his armpits, grazing the pebbled peaks of his nipples, skimming his ribs. Thumbs rubbed at the mountains of his hipbones and he moaned. Fingers gripped the swell of his ass and he gasped. Jiyong clung to the boy's bared shoulders, fingernails biting into the pale skin. Grunting, Seunghyun roughly pulled him away from the door and walked him backwards toward the bed, never once breaking contact. They fell to the mattress, all awkward angles and knocking bones. He laughed, fumbling with the buckle on the boy's belt.

 

“I think my motor skills are shot.” Jiyong grinned, kissing Seunghyun's neck.

 

“You don't need them right now anyway,” the brunette panted and smiled.

 

He gave up on undoing the boy's pants and let him take over, watching intently as his body was revealed slowly but surely. Jiyong didn't even have to touch himself. Just watching Seunghyun disrobe contributed to the suffocating weight of his arousal. His jeans followed suit, the rough fabric being tugged impatiently and thrown to the floor without a second thought. He bit his lip, blushing, when the boy looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Commando? Really?”

 

“I don't like underwear.”

 

“Yeah, that little tidbit is getting filed away for future use.”

 

Seunghyun crawled his way back up Jiyong's body, dropping wet kisses and tongue swipes like atomic bombs over his frayed nerves. His laughter reconstructed itself into breathless whimpers by the time he slotted their lips together once more. Having the boy's naked form draped over his as they kissed, languid and lazy, was the closest his existence had ever come to being perfect. Jiyong tangled their fingers together, tangled their thighs and calves and ankles. Forever tangled up in Seunghyun. How had it taken them this long to get here? Would it have been any different, any less, if they had tumbled sooner? He didn't know. Didn't need to know. Only needed the steady symphonic beat of the boy's heart above his.

 

Living up to his promises, Seunghyun dedicated an eternity to carefully taking Jiyong apart piece by piece. No millimeter of flesh was left untouched by those heavenly lips, that skilled tongue. He was a quivering, moaning mess. Clutching hopelessly at soft sheets, soft strands of hair, soft skin, he tried to anchor himself.

 

“Please, please, please, please,” Jiyong begged, pleaded, repeated the word like the holiest prayer.

 

The boy mercifully wrapped his mouth around the head of his aching cock and he arched off the bed, crying out. Seunghyun brought a thumb to his entrance, massaging the ring of muscle there while he swirled his tongue and hollowed his cheeks, sucking Jiyong off like he was a fucking candy-cane. He thought he was gonna die.

 

“Seunghyun,” he whined. “ _Please_.”

 

Replacing his thumb with his finger, the brunette pushed inside of him to brush against his prostate. Over and over and over again. Jiyong lasted all of ten seconds, spilling into Seunghyun's mouth with a guttural, drawn-out groan. Every molecule buzzed, alive and wrecked and sated. The Marshmallow withdrew, licking his upturned lips.

 

“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” he huffed, feeling like a metric ton of cement.

 

“Smug?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well I don't see you moving.” Seunghyun collapsed on the bed next to Jiyong, stroking his stomach as he nuzzled against his neck.

 

“Gimme a few minutes, okay?” He chuckled, basking in the boy's gentle touches.

 

“Do you want me to time you?”

 

Jiyong smacked him soundly on the arm.

 

“Look, I moved.”

 

“I'll try harder next time, then.” The boy pulled back to gaze down into his eyes, full of tenderness. Full of love.

 

A desperate need grabbed hold of him and he surged up to kiss him deeply, shoving him onto his back. Seunghyun framed Jiyong's face with warm hands. Straddling the boy's hips, he dragged his lips over the hard line of his jaw, sucked red marks onto his salty skin. It was a struggle not to swallow him whole.

 

“I want to bury myself inside of you,” he sighed against his neck.

 

The brunette shuddered underneath him.

 

“Hold on to that thought.”

 

Jiyong rolled away to allow Seunghyun to leave the bed. He stared at the ceiling and breathed, new waves of arousal mingling with the ghosts of the ones that came before. The boy rummaged through a set of drawers on the other side of the room, returning to sit beside him.

 

“You keep condoms and lube in your sock drawer?”

 

“So? You don't wear any underwear.”

 

“I'm never gonna live that down, am I?”

 

“Nope.”

 

He snorted and stole the condom and the small bottle from the boy's hand. Jiyong nudged Seunghyun until he was laying down again, neither of them able to contain their shared amusement. Retaking his place, he reached out to stroke faintly at the boy's cheekbone. So infinitely beautiful. So infinitely sweet. He really didn't deserve such a generous heart. He worried that his selfishness might prevent him from ever giving it back. Fingers curled around the base of his cock, pumping slowly, and he ceased to think entirely. They stared at one another as he was once again brought to full hardness, refusing to look away even when it became so intense Jiyong almost lost himself. He had to still Seunghyun's hand with one of his own, gasping and too close to the edge. It was unlikely that he'd be able to recover a third time.

 

“You can't do that.”

 

The boy sat up, grip firm on his erection. He squeezed and Jiyong hissed, resting his forehead against the brunette's.

 

“But I like being the reason you lose control.” Seunghyun nipped at his mouth.

 

“You'll always be the reason,” he replied, sealing the vow with a bruising press of lips.

 

Eventually he got what he wanted though, buried to the hilt inside of the boy's tight heat, thighs trembling as he began to move. He knew he wouldn't last long, not after the way he'd been teased. But he tried to prolong the experience as best he could. It didn't help that Seunghyun was flawlessly meeting his every thrust, hips rolling and muscles clenching. A sheen of sweat painted their skin with glistening droplets, easing the slide of their bodies. Jiyong felt himself tensing. His climax was imminent. The boy was swearing in his ear, muttering nonsense, gasping his name so deliciously that he couldn't prevent the stutter of his hips as he fell and fell and fell so hard. He never stopped falling. Seunghyun came undone a moment later, arms clamped like a vice around his waist and emitted a choked sob.

 

They clung to each other, breathing heavily. He wasn't ready to let go yet. Wasn't ready to let go, ever. Jiyong closed his eyes, kissed the patch of skin just over the boy's pounding heart, and said goodbye to his own. There was no use pretending anymore.

 

He was irrevocably in love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the quoted text goes to Douglas Adams and e.e. cummings, respectively.


	10. You & I

 

 

His pulse hadn't slowed down even though they'd been laying there together in silence for almost twenty minutes. Jiyong felt the sweat that had collected in tiny pools on his back begin to cool and evaporate, an involuntary shudder rippling through his useless muscles. He knew he shouldn't be afraid of the magnetic tugging in his chest, of the way his heart was trying to melt through sinew and bone to sink inside of Seunghyun's ribcage. But he was. So afraid. He was worried that he needed the boy too much, that he was too inextricably attached. Jiyong didn't want to smother this fire that had so carefully been kindled. An insistent gurgling beneath him interrupted his thoughts and he chuckled.

 

“Hungry?”

 

“It would seem that way.” Seunghyun grinned at him as he sat up. “ Are you?”

 

“A little, yeah.”

 

“Wanna take a shower first?” The boy stretched out, stifling a yawn.

 

Jiyong watched the brunette's long body, watched the smooth skin pulled taut over protruding bones, and decided he'd rather nourish himself with hips and thighs and nimble fingers. Moans and sighs and broken whimpers.

 

“Sure.” He nodded, allowing himself to be dragged from the bed and into the bathroom.

 

Cascades of warm water rolled off of him as he stood directly under the shower-head. He tilted his head back, the gentle spray pelting his face. Seunghyun's hands came up to slick his hair away from his forehead, the boy's fingers massaging into his scalp and doing nothing to help the heaviness still clinging to his muscles. He sagged against his chest and the boy let his arms dangle down over Jiyong's shoulders.

 

“Right here. Right now. Like this, with you,” Seunghyun murmured. “I don't want it to end.”

 

“Even after we'd inevitably turn into giant, white raisins?” He smiled, unable to resist.

 

Seunghyun snorted and tweaked one of his nipples. Jiyong yelped, slapping his hand away and twisting out the brunette's arms.

 

“Little brat.” The boy pushed him into the tiled wall, poking at his stomach. “You know what I meant.”

 

He tried to retaliate but The Marshmallow was too quick. Eventually they just ended up swatting at each other like toddlers, struggling to breathe because they were laughing so hard. Jiyong surrendered with his hands up.

 

“No more, please, “ he gasped.

 

Cheshire grin firmly in place, they boy closed in on him, chuckling as he molded their bodies together. He gasped for a different reason now, Seunghyun slipping a hot tongue inside of his mouth and skillfully transforming him from solid to liquid. His fingers sunk into the boy's hair, tangling with the wet tendrils, pressing him closer. Faint swirls of arousal brewed in his gut and he felt as though his legs were going to give out at any moment. He didn't believe he would ever get used to the way Seunghyun kissed him. Like he'd been wandering the desert for his whole life and Jiyong was the first oasis he'd found that wasn't a mirage. It was one of the reasons he was so scared to speak the truth out loud. Would giving it a name change the intensity of their affections? It had before. He broke away, still short of breath, and nudged his nose against the brunette's.

 

“You're too good at that.”

 

“At what?”

 

“Making me weak in the knees.”

 

The boy smiled, lips tickling his ear as he wrapped Jiyong up in his arms.

 

“The feeling is always mutual,” Seunghyun whispered.

 

 

It took them a few tries to leave the shower, always finding an excuse to linger a little longer, neither of them able to keep their hands to themselves. He scrunched up his face as the boy toweled his hair dry, making him laugh. Jiyong loved that sound. Loved the rolling timbre of his honey-coated baritone. It made his heart do somersaults and dance. Those large hands continued lower, rubbing down his shoulders and his arms, his chest and his hips, his ass and his thighs. A hiss crawled out between clenched teeth when the boy stroked his cock through the towel, once, and crouched down to wipe off his calves, his feet. Jiyong could see the beginnings of a shit-eating grin toying at the corners of the brunette's mouth.

 

“You really do live to tease me, don't you?” He asked once the boy had stood up.

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Seunghyun started to dry his own body, towel hiding the obvious smirk on his face.

 

He yanked it away from his head and just stared at him, one eyebrow raised in silent incredulity. The boy circled the towel around his waist and stepped forward. Close enough to feel the heat emanating from his skin but not quite making contact. Jiyong met the boy's darkened eyes and lost himself to waves of vertigo, stomach dropping out and heartbeat pounding against his sternum. Falling without moving. Seunghyun's hands hovered over the sides of his ribcage and fluttered, butterfly soft, along his torso as he spoke into Jiyong's mouth.

 

“Because you're an easy target,” the boy breathed. “Are you aware of how intoxicating it is, to know that there's someone who wants you so completely, you don't even have to touch them to make them tremble?”

 

The air he'd been holding in his lungs escaped in the form of a ragged sigh. Tremble? No, he was going to incinerate both of them when the blazing star in his chest exploded, wiping out everything that lay in its path. Why did he do this to himself? He should have kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to give Seunghyun another opportunity to overwhelm him. To take advantage of his weakness for the boy. Jiyong's eyelids drooped, lust making him drowsy. He wondered if they'd always burn so brightly for each other.

 

Closing the infinitesimal distance between their lips, Seunghyun kissed him, ardent and slow.

 

 

*

 

Once they'd managed to disentangle themselves long enough to get dressed, they migrated to the kitchen. He sat at the table, chin resting on the knee drawn up to his chest while the boy rummaged through the refrigerator. Jiyong watched him poke around empty shelves and smiled to himself. He played with the hem of his soft t-shirt. It was Seunghyun's. The Marshmallow had insisted and he wasn't about to refuse because now he was swimming in the boy's scent. As he pondered the various ways he could smuggle it out of the apartment, Seunghyun shut the fridge and moved on to search the freezer.

 

“I think we're shit out of luck.” The boy joined him at the table with a frown. “How do you feel about Chinese?”

 

He shook his head, still smiling. “Doesn't matter. Anything's good.”

 

“Cool.” Digging his phone out of his pocket, the brunette dialed and held it up to his ear.

 

“You memorized the number?”

 

“Shut up.” Seunghyun scowled, face brightening when someone picked up on the other end. “ Hi, I'd like to order for take-out.”

 

Jiyong tried to muffle his giggles with the back of his hand but it was no use. The boy eyed him suspiciously and it was a miracle that he kept it together until the call finished.

 

“I'm surprised you even had to tell them what you wanted.”

 

“It's a good thing you're so fucking cute, otherwise I'd have no problem kicking your snarky ass out.”

 

“Right, because you only keep me around for my pretty face.”

 

They were grinning at each other across the table. Jiyong bit his lip, their banter making him feel buoyant. Happy. They were so stupid he wanted to laugh. Seunghyun got up from his seat with a sigh.

 

“Do you wanna come with? It's a few blocks north.”

 

He looked down at his bare legs, still in the boxers the brunette had let him borrow.

 

“That would involve putting on pants.”

 

The boy chuckled and walked over to him, cupped his cheek in a warm palm.

 

“Just make sure you're still here when I get back.”

 

“I'm not going anywhere, Seunghyun.”

 

“Promise?” The question in the boy's eyes held more weight than his words. This wasn't about Chinese food anymore.

 

“Yeah, I promise.” And he meant it.

 

Bending at the waist, the boy brushed his lips over Jiyong's mouth.

 

“See you in a few,” Seunghyun murmured and withdrew, making his way to the front hall and slipping out the door.

 

He listened to the sound of the boy's footsteps echo and fade in the stairwell before unfurling and wandering into the living room. Laying down in the middle of the floor, Jiyong tucked his arms behind his head and stared vacantly at the ceiling. What was he afraid of, really? He wasn't alone anymore. The Marshmallow had assured him of that, even if he hadn't explicitly said it, his actions speaking louder than any words. But where did they go from here? He couldn't stay at The Atomic forever. Neither of them could. It wasn't that he was in a rush to move on with his life, he didn't even know what he wanted to do yet. However the thought of “what comes next?” was constantly playing at the edges of his mind. He wondered if Seunghyun was ever concerned about his future. Or if he planned on avoiding the whole concept for as long as possible. Closing his eyes, he let his brain lead him in endless circles until the noise of the door slamming shut alerted him to the boy's return.

 

“Ji?”

 

“In here.”

 

“What are you doing?” The boy grinned down at him, setting the plastic carry-out bags on the coffee table.

 

“Thinking.”

 

“Anything worth sharing?”

 

“Maybe later. All I wanna do right now is shove noodles in my mouth.”

 

Which was true, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't thankful for the diversion. It wasn't time for that conversation, he wasn't ready. Laughing, the brunette sat next to him, leaning into the couch.

 

In a matter of minutes they had every container open and steaming, chopsticks poised to attack each succulent morsel. Jiyong started with the spring rolls, Seunghyun going straight for the mongolian beef. They ate in voluntary silence, dedicated solely to the task of delivering greasy food into their ravenous stomachs. When they'd slowed down enough to talk, the older boy spoke first.

 

“So, I've been wondering,” the brunette began. “And forgive me if this isn't something you want to talk about, but why were you so lonely when you were younger?”

 

He slurped up a mouthful of egg noodles and shrugged.

 

“I didn't have many friends.” Staring down at the carton in his hands, he poked at a slice of carrot. “It was hard for me to connect with people. I still struggle with that sometimes.”

 

Seunghyun nodded. “I know the feeling.”

 

“Did you have a happy childhood?”

 

“Yes and no?” The boy put his food down and turned to face Jiyong. “It wasn't awful but it wasn't spectacular either. My dad was less of a prick when we were little, so I guess that constitutes as happy.”

 

He snorted, grinning. “Do I even wanna ask?”

 

“Let me put it this way.” Seunghyun let his head fall back to rest on the couch cushions. “He never took home the award for World's Biggest Asshole, but he's definitely been nominated for at least the last five years straight. Mostly I'm just tired of being a disappointment.”

 

“I would hardly categorize you as a disappointment, Seunghyun.”

 

“Thanks. But you're not the dead-beat son of a Pulitzer prize-winning author.”

 

Jiyong almost choked on a piece of broccoli.

 

“Your dad's won a Pulitzer?”

 

“Yes,” the boy groaned, running both hands through his long hair. “Now do you understand where I'm coming from?”

 

“Sort of. And you're not a dead-beat, stop that.”

 

“Might as well be.”

 

Leaving his carton of Chinese food on the coffee table, he moved to kneel in front of the boy, cradling his face and looking him directly in the eye.

 

“Seunghyun, listen to me. You are not a failure.” He smoothed his fingers over a thick eyebrow. “And the only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself.”

 

The Marshmallow smiled and he nuzzled into the curve of his hand.

 

“You're too good for me, pretty boy.”

 

Jiyong was about two seconds away from throttling him. He rolled his eyes and leaned in, voice low.

 

“What happened to “everyone deserves to be loved”, hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to Seunghyun's lips and pulled back. “What makes you the exception?”

 

And then he was being forcefully yanked into the brunette's lap, the boy's mouth devouring his like he hadn't just gorged himself on cheap take-out. Like Jiyong was the most delicious treat. He melted into Seunghyun's embrace, arms coiling around his neck. It was always a bit like drowning, only he never wanted to come up for air.

 

“Was that dessert?” Smirking, he dragged sloppy kisses across the boy's cheek.

 

“No, I've got something better.”

 

“You mean there's something better than this?” Jiyong murmured in his ear, rolling his hips, faint gasp spilling into his lungs.

 

“Maybe not,” Seunghyun moaned quietly, fingers tightening their hold on his waist. “But I think you'll like it.”

 

“I'm sure I will.” He nipped at the boy's jaw.

 

Reluctantly, they separated, rising from the floor and collecting all the open containers of food to bring them into the kitchen. Once the leftovers had been placed in the fridge, The Marshmallow unexpectedly grabbed him, hoisting him up onto the counter. He laughed, swinging his legs out as the older boy retrieved a carton of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia from the freezer.

 

“So, you don't have food, but you have ice cream?”

 

“Ice cream is food,” Seunghyun insisted.

 

“You're ridiculous.”

 

“Stop talking and open your mouth.”

 

Jiyong did as he was told, watching as the brunette situated himself between his knees and dipped a spoon into the frozen, cherry-flavored heaven. Slowly, the boy slid the spoon into his mouth and he eagerly sucked the ice cream off, allowing it to melt on his tongue.

 

“Fuck, I haven't had ice cream in so long.”

 

“That's horrible, I'm sorry,” Seunghyun mumbled around a mouthful of the sweet dessert.

 

Like this, they took turns feeding each other until the pint was almost gone. The boy closed the carton, licking one last dollop from the spoon, and returned it to the freezer.

 

“Thank you.” Jiyong beamed, climbing down from the counter.

 

“You're most welcome.”

 

For a moment they stood there, making stupid, sappy faces at one another in the center of the kitchen. He blushed and ducked his head, the warmth in Seunghyun's eyes too much for him to bear. There were times, like right now, that he thought he might be trapped inside one infinitely elaborate dream. Or rather the entire day. Aside from their non-argument earlier it had been so perfect, so wonderful, that he feared going to sleep because then it would be over. The boy took him by the hand and brought them to the bathroom where they brushed their teeth. His cheeks grew hot again when he remembered what had occurred here just a couple hours ago. Seunghyun smirked at him in the mirror and he made himself look away or else he'd never stop blushing.

 

Jiyong wormed his way under the covers while the boy undressed, tossing his jeans into the hamper next to his dresser. The light was switched off and he felt the bed dip when Seunghyun climbed in. He felt his body align with his, felt his arms curl around him from behind. Felt his breath ghosting over his neck in short bursts.

 

“You know, you never told me what you were thinking, that day at the lake.” He covered the boy's arms with his own.

 

“I was hoping you'd forget.”

 

“No dice.”

 

Seunghyun huffed in amusement and squeezed Jiyong tighter, grazing his skin with gentle lips and planting a kiss just behind his ear. But the boy went mute after and he regretted asking.

 

“If you don't want to tell me, it's-”

 

“No. No I want to.”

 

Taking a deep breath, the boy continued.

 

“I was thinking about how beautiful you were, with the sunlight clinging to you like it had found a lost treasure.”

 

Something expanded in his chest and he sensed a stinging behind his eyes. He knew where this was going and he wasn't sure he could handle it. The boy kissed his neck again, tongue flicking out to taste his skin. Jiyong shivered.

 

“I was thinking about how quickly my heart had decided to love you. And about how easy it would be to spend the rest of my life with you.”

 

“Seunghyun,” he choked the boy's name out past the enormous lump in his throat.

 

“Shh...you don't have to say anything now. Or even tomorrow morning when we wake up.” The brunette linked their fingers together, nose pressed into his hair. “Just go to sleep with the knowledge that you are loved, Jiyong, and will be for a very long time.”

 

There were a million things he wanted to say. Countless things. But he couldn't get his tongue to form consonants or his mouth to form vowels. He settled for rolling over, latching onto the boy's face and kissing him with everything that he had to give. He hoped it was enough.

 

 

*

 

 

Leafy boughs of burnt orange and yellow blurred past him as he stared out the window of Jess's small car. Jiyong fidgeted in the backseat, absentmindedly tapping his fingers against his thigh, wondering why he'd agreed to this. The girl had demanded that he tag along with her and her friends, up to this house by the ocean where some rich asshole was throwing a party. They were staying for the entire weekend and Jiyong already knew he wouldn't survive more than a few seconds before he wanted to go home. But he'd said yes, for whatever reason, and asked off of work almost three weeks ago. Plus Jess probably would have beaten him to a bloody pulp if he'd backed out at the last minute. So now he was stuck in a car for the next three hours with people he didn't know, heading to a destination he didn't want to reach. He told himself it was for the best, though. A few days away from the coffee shop would be nice. A few days away from his lonely little apartment and the monotony of his small city. Even the time away from Seunghyun would be beneficial. At least, he pretended it would.

 

Jiyong let his head knock into the glass as he closed his eyes, trying to shut out the loud music and the louder laughter. Memories of the night Seunghyun confessed and the days that followed tumbled around in his mind. He still hadn't found the courage to say the words back and he was starting to hate himself for it. Because he communicated the eight letters and three syllables strung together in every other way that he knew how. But the sounds just never left his lips, stuck somewhere in the labyrinthine layers of his heart.

 

Soon. He would find a way and tell him soon.

 

 

*

 

 

The house was not the towering mansion that he had envisioned. It was larger than most, but by no means did it outwardly flaunt the wealth of its owners. Jiyong actually kind of liked it and spent most of his time on the rooftop deck alone while the others spread out over the living room or goofed off in the heated pool. It was a bit late in the season for swimming but that wasn't going to stop a bunch of drunk, overgrown children from doing it anyway. He chuckled to himself when he remembered Jess, practically naked, cannonballing into the water the night before with a gleeful shriek. She was still so vibrant, vivacious, bursting with life. He envied her a little for being so carefree. Nothing ever fazed her.

 

Groaning, Jiyong took a sip of his beer. He was getting all mopey again, standing off to the side watching everyone else have fun. It was Saturday now. The main event. Party kids had come from all over and the house was packed, walls shaking from the pulsing bass and the jumping bodies. Several times he'd been approached by shameless boys and coquettish girls that attempted to lure him onto the dance floor or steal him away to the first empty bedroom they could find. But every time he shook his head, sliding out of reach of their wandering fingers. Jiyong only wanted one set of hands touching him and they were currently miles away. The thought made him frown. He promised himself he wasn't going to call the boy when he was here, but the desire to hear his voice was so strong in that moment that he gave in, disappearing to the secluded depths of the laundry room. Cell phone held to his ear, he locked the door and lifted himself up into the washing machine, heels banging into the metal surface. Seunghyun picked up on the third ring.

 

“Aren't you supposed to be passed out drunk in the corner or something?”

 

“Hello to you too.”

 

The boy chuckled and he smiled, pressed the phone closer as though it would make the distance seem less.

 

“I take it you're not enjoying yourself.”

 

“Not really, no.”

 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm currently doing inventory for the cafe and fighting the urge to slit my own wrists.”

 

“That makes me feel worse, actually.” Seunghyun laughed and his pulse elevated. “I wish I was there to help you.”

 

“If you were here, we wouldn't be getting much work done.”

 

“Don't start,” he sighed. “I can't wait for this weekend to be over.”

 

“Where are you right now? I can't hear any alcohol fueled shouting.”

 

“I'm hiding in the laundry room.”

 

“Ah, so I have you all to myself.”

 

“You always do.” Jiyong caught his lower lip between his teeth and leaned back against the wall, free hand resting over his stomach.

 

There was a lull in their conversation and he listened to Seunghyun inhale and exhale through the receiver.

 

“I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left.” The boy's voice was soft and rich and he felt a warmth bloom under his skin.

 

“I've only been gone for two days, Seunghyun.”

 

“That's two days too long.”

 

Jiyong giggled. Hopeless idiots, both of them.

 

“I miss you more.”

 

“I doubt that.”

 

“Oh are we gonna fight about it now?” His cheeks were getting sore because hadn't once stopped grinning like a fool.

 

“It's not as fun when I can't see the fruits of my labor.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean the way you'll blush after I tell you that I miss the taste of your skin, the brilliance of your smile, the perfection of your lips moving against mine.”

 

The warmth under his skin crackled and swelled. How could he not blush after hearing that? Jiyong didn't know what to say, but the boy didn't stop there.

 

“I miss your fingers in my hair, the swell of your ass against my hips when we sleep,” the brunette paused. “The weight of your cock in my mouth.”

 

He was sure the boy could hear the unevenness of his breath. Possibly even the blood rushing in his ears and surging through his veins.

 

“Seunghyun...”

 

“Are you blushing yet?”

 

“I think you know I'm well past that.”

 

“Should I apologize?”

 

“No, keep going.”

 

Seunghyun laughed again and Jiyong closed his eyes. That sound.

 

“I love hearing you whimper when I suck on your neck, love the way your legs quiver around me when I'm buried inside of you, the way your hips stutter right before you come.”

 

He was palming his dick through his jeans, Seunghyun's deep voice sending shivers down his spine.

 

“Are you touching yourself, Jiyong?”

 

“Yes,” he breathed.

 

“I want you to undo your zipper, gradually, and pull your cock out. I already know you're not wearing any underwear.”

 

Smirking, he followed the boy's instructions, erection gripped firmly in his fist. Jiyong gasped.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Think about my tongue leaving wet trails over your stomach, my teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your thighs, and stroke yourself lightly. Almost no pressure.”

 

This was such exquisite torture, knowing exactly what it felt like to have Seunghyun lapping hungrily at his skin and not being able to experience it outside of the limits of his imagination. With the tips of his fingers, he caressed the length of his cock, starting at the base and working his way up. He did it again and surprised himself with a throaty moan.

 

“You're making me painfully hard, you know that? The noises that come out of your beautiful mouth, fuck.”

 

“Only for you.” Jiyong stroked himself once more, whining low.

 

“If you hadn't left, I could be kissing you senseless.”

 

“Just keep talking,” he begged.

 

“You like the sound of my voice, don't you.” Seunghyun was basically making love to his ear, speaking in sultry tones and gravelly whispers. “I bet I could make you come without laying a single finger on your body.”

 

His hand curled fully around his shaft and he was stroking himself in earnest now, no longer willing to tease when he wouldn't even have the gratification of the boy's touch.

 

“When you get back on Monday, I'm gonna lock you away in my bedroom and never let you out.”

 

“Is that an invitation to move in, then?” He almost choked on his words, another moan spilling from his mouth as his speed increased.

 

“Jesus, this is killing me. Hearing you wreck yourself like this. I can see you perfectly, laying on top of the washing machine with your flushed cock in your hand, trying not to drop the phone.”

 

“You think you're so funny.” Jiyong's breathing became labored, chest heaving.

 

He smiled widely when the boy couldn't hide his snickering. Only they would crack jokes during phone sex while he was in a stranger's laundry room on the other side of the state. His stomach muscles were clenching, thighs shaking slightly as he lifted his hips up and arched his spine. That sweet cluster of arousal was about to fracture into a million little particles and send him sky high. Needy, incoherent noises resonated in the back of his throat as he imagined Seunghyun's lips pulling him apart and piecing him back together.

 

“Come on, Jiyong,” the boy nearly cooed. “I wanna hear you scream.”

 

And he did. Quite loudly, in fact, with his toes curling to the point of being painful and his body curving up off of the washing machine as he came in long spurts. Every molecule inside of him was throbbing in pleasure, heart going a mile a minute. He blinked sluggishly after collapsing back down, suddenly feeling like he was underwater, limbs not quite listening to his brain's commands to  _move_.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jiyong drew the expletive out into a groan.

 

“I think I'm genuinely sad to have missed that one.”

 

He laughed, lazy and hoarse.

 

“I'll be sure to give you an encore when I get home.”

 

“I look forward to it.”

 

They both went quiet, both listening to the steady rhythm of their breathing. Jiyong tucked himself back into his jeans and delicately pulled himself up into a sitting position.

 

“I should probably make an appearance outside before Jess realizes I've gone missing.”

 

“Yeah. I need to finish this shit before morning.”

 

Still, neither made the effort to end the call. He dragged a hand through his hair and forced himself to say goodbye.

 

“See you soon, Seunghyun.”

 

“Not soon enough.”

 

Jiyong snorted. “You'll survive.”

 

“Barely.”

 

The need to say the words crept up on him, the need to let the boy know that he loved him more than he could ever know tugging at his tongue. But saying it over the phone, for the first time? He sighed. Not like this, even though it physically hurt to leave it unspoken. Jiyong wanted to see The Marshmallow's face when he did, wanted to see his dark eyes overflow with the emotion. He wanted to be able to hold Seunghyun in his arms and feel his heartbeat quicken underneath his hand.

 

“Good night, you idiot.”

 

“Love you too, Ji.”

 

Before he could open his mouth, the call was disconnected and he glared down at his phone. That fucking jerk. Jiyong shoved the phone into his pocket and slid down from the washer, careful to avoid the mess he'd made. Laughing and shaking his head, he buttoned his pants, unlocking the door to return to the festivities.

 

 

*

 

 

When he stood still inside the constantly moving current of sweaty, smiling strangers he sensed a change. A shift. He realized he was returning the glassy-eyed expressions of joy, that he was lit up from within just like them. But not because of the beer or the drugs or the dancing. No, it was because he'd stalled long enough and it was time to stop being a coward. It was time. And he was ready.

 

With a happy whoop, he dove into the crowd of dancing morons and finally let go.

 


	11. All Your Tomorrows

 

Though he'd only been gone for a few days, returning home after the weekend away felt like a breath of fresh air. Like the haze hanging over his life had been lifted and he finally knew what he wanted. Seunghyun had played a major part in this, in putting things into perspective. In waking him up. Jiyong owed the other boy so much and he wanted to thank him, but he didn't know how. What did you say to someone who has changed your life so irrevocably? Are there even words, in any language, for that kind of gratitude? He supposed telling Seunghyun that he loved him, more than he'd ever loved anyone, would probably be a step in the right direction.

 

The happiness in his heart and the clarity of his mind faltered when he arrived at the cafe early that morning. Seunghyun's bike was missing as well as the boy it belonged to and he couldn't seem to pull his lips out of the deep frown carved onto his face. Seunghyun had never  _not_  been here, his presence permanently synonymous with The Atomic. It was unsettling. Jiyong' uneasiness only grew fat and heavy when he asked Lauren, the girl taking over in Seunghyun's absence, where he was.

 

“No one knows.” She shrugged, counting the money in the register before they opened for the day. “He said it was a family emergency and that he'd need me to cover for him until the end of the week.”

 

He nodded and started fiddling with the espresso machine, worried that if he didn't do something with his hands he would just stand there like a forlorn statue. Lauren turned towards him, hip cocked against the counter.

 

“The two of you are pretty close, right?”

 

Jiyong nodded again.

 

“I wonder why he didn't contact you. I hope he's okay.”

 

“I was out of town.”

 

“Shit, yeah. I forgot about that.” Lauren crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows knotted together. “Have you tried calling him?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“I can finish up here if you wanna go in the back.” She jerked her thumb towards the storage room.

 

“Thanks.” Jiyong gave her a half smile, pulling his phone out of his pocked as he walked away.

 

Leaning into the wall, he stared down at the dark screen of his cell phone and sighed. Obviously something had happened, something that had prevented Seunghyun from getting in touch. Jiyong's teeth worried at his bottom lip as all manner of potential catastrophes cycled through his head. He was afraid to find out if any of the increasingly farfetched scenarios he imagined were true. Even if Seunghyun was fine physically, he still wanted to offer whatever support that he could. Closing his eyes, Jiyong took another deep breath and dialed the boy's number. The call went directly to voicemail, Seunghyun's recorded greeting filtering into his ear. A few minutes later he tried again with the same result. Shoulders slumped, he returned to the front, shaking his head when Lauren looked at him expectantly. She squeezed his shoulder, an act of silent reassurance. But it did nothing to quell the twisting anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

 

They unlocked the door, turned on the lights, and moved forward with the rest of their day.

 

 

*

 

 

After he said his goodbyes to Lauren, he grabbed his backpack and climbed the back stairs to Seunghyun's apartment. Jiyong doubted the boy was home, but he figured it was worth a shot. Knocking loudly, he waited. Nothing. Vainly, he knocked again but there was no sound or sign of movement behind the door. Jiyong let his bag slide from his fingers to fall on the ground, following suit by folding himself into a hunch on the dusty landing. His head tipped to the side, hitting the wall with a hollow thunk.

 

He knew this was different from the night he'd been left hanging at The Hideout and that he had no right to be frustrated. Or hurt. Or angry. Though each emotion took hold of him, one after the other, until all that remained was overwhelming concern. Jiyong sat there outside the door for three hours, thinking about Seunghyun. About them. About the fact that he didn't care what the future held, so long as they blundered through it together, regardless of how terrifying it was. Which is why he was so distraught that the boy was nowhere to be found.

 

The sun had begun its descent behind the trees, Jiyong could see the blazing glow through the tiny window at the bottom of the stairs. He attempted another call but it was always the same. Stretching cramped muscles, he forced himself up from the floor and snatched his backpack. Jiyong hopped down the steps, tugging his hoodie out of his bag when the cool Autumn air danced over his skin, giving him goosebumps. It was the beginning of a beautiful evening despite the chill. He smiled softly to himself because Seunghyun would have insisted they go for a long bike ride together. Gliding along endless asphalt with nothing but the sound of their giddy laughter and their turning gears.

 

Next time, perhaps.

 

Jiyong unlocked his bike and rode home, trying so very hard to ignore the nervous tremor in his hands and in his heart.

 

 

*

 

 

Sleep had teased him with its gentle fingers all night, never quite pulling him all the way under. Jiyong opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, watching the light spread slowly across his bedroom until the alarm went off. He squinted at his phone. No texts and no missed calls. The anxiety swelled in his chest as he tried reaching Seunghyun yet another time, but as expected all he got was the boy's voicemail. Jiyong decided to leave a message, even though it probably wouldn't change anything.

 

“Hey...” He breathed for a moment, not really sure what to say. “I haven't been able to get a hold of you for a couple days now and I just want to know if you're okay.

 

“I,  _need,_  to know. Cause I'm kind of going a little crazy here without you. Call me whenever you can, even if I'm at work, it doesn't matter. In the meantime I'll keep trying to convince myself you aren't dead.”

 

He laughed, hand sliding over his face.

 

“Because if you are, I'll kill you.”

 

Jiyong hung up, arms flopping out on either side of the bed. Going to work at the cafe without Seunghyun there for an entire week would be hell. Not that he didn't like Lauren, she was sweet and sarcastic. It just wasn't the same without his marshmallow. He rolled out from under his blanket and trudged to the bathroom to get ready, dragging his feel like a petulant child.

 

 

*

 

 

The morning passed gradually, the minutes and seconds trickling by without consideration for Jiyong's fraying nerves. He couldn't handle Seunghyun's silence. Because the longer the boy's well-being remained a mystery, the more the gnawing worry piled up inside of him. Lauren kept giving him these sad little sympathetic glances and it was making everything worse. She didn't know the extent of his agony, didn't know that his concern was beyond that of a friend's. Jiyong swung his legs half-heartedly, perched on the counter next to the sink, and pretended that he could feel the warmth of Seunghyun's side pressed into his.

 

It was almost two now but he couldn't wait anymore. He got down from the counter and nudged Lauren with his shoulder.

 

“I'm gonna head out a few minutes early if that's cool.”

 

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” She smiled. “ See you tomorrow, Ji.”

 

“Take it easy.” He waved as he slipped through the back door.

 

Jiyong bounded up the steps to Seunghyun's apartment, hoping that maybe today would be different. That maybe the boy would be home and he could stop feeling like a complete and total nutcase. He knocked and held his breath.

 

The door swung open a moment later, revealing a rather rumpled, sleep-deprived looking Seunghyun. At first neither of them uttered a word, too busy relearning the microscopic details they might have forgotten. Relief flooded through him in a wild rush and he was drunk on the sight of the boy's face, his pulse racing.

 

“Well, at least now I know you're not dead.”

 

Seunghyun snorted, gathering him up in his arms and kissing the top of his head. He clung tightly, squeezing the boy as close as their bones would allow. Jiyong didn't realize how much he depended on this, on touch, taste, and sound. On Seunghyun. He breathed in, filling his mouth and his nose with the comforting scent of the boy's skin.

 

“I'm sorry I never called you,” Seunghyun murmured. “I've been running back and forth between my parents' house and the hospital since Sunday. Plus I forgot my phone.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“My dad got in an accident. Someone hit him when he was out riding his bike.”

 

Jiyong pulled away, eyes wide.

 

“Jesus christ, is he okay?'

 

The boy nodded, hands brushing through Jiyong's hair to frame his face, thumbs gently sweeping over his cheekbones.

 

“He's stable, for now. We don't know exactly how much damage has been done yet though, they've been running tests for days.”

 

“Are  _you_  okay?” He rubbed circles into Seunghyun's back, searching the boy's eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Seunghyun sighed. “I'm fine.”

 

Jiyong swayed forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of the brunette's mouth. He felt the small smile spread beneath his lips and Seunghyun turned to claim him fully, humming with pleasure as he nipped at the soft flesh. It seemed like an age had passed since he'd been able to hold him. Clenching at the material of Seunghyun's shirt, Jiyong allowed the boy's tongue beyond the walls of his teeth to slide against his own.

 

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” A familiar voice chimed behind them from the hallway.

 

They pulled away from one another and he deflated almost instantly. Dongwook. He raised an unamused brow, watching Seunghyun's eyes lower as his hands fell from Jiyong's face.

 

“Don't freak out, he brought me home from the hospital this morning.”

 

“I wasn't gonna freak out.” Jiyong gave a slight pout and the boy laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

 

“The murder in your gaze tells another tale,” Seunghyun mumbled into his hair and nudged the front door shut with his foot, tugging them into the apartment.

 

“Nice to see you again, Jiyong.” Dongwook grinned, big and bright and obnoxious.

 

“I wish I could say the same.”

 

They all migrated into the kitchen, Seunghyun slipping away to boil water for coffee. Jiyong sat at the table and crossed his legs, leaning against the back of the chair while Dongwook took the seat across from him. He narrowed his eyes and the other boy just kept smiling at him. It was unnerving.

 

“Y'know, when this asshole told me you were jealous, I almost choked to death on my own laughter.”

 

“Stop teasing him, Wookie, you'll only make things worse.”

 

“Well it's fucking true.”

 

“I guess your face  _did_  turn an alarming shade of purple.”

 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Dongwook said, turning back to him. “Even if Seunghyun wasn't essentially my brother, I don't like sucking dick.”

 

“Usually.” Seunghyun called over his shoulder.

 

Dongwook blushed deeply and glanced at Jiyong.

 

“Yes, thank you, no need to remind me.”

 

Confused, he looked up at Seunghyun as he walked over to the table, balancing three steaming mugs in his hands.

 

“Wookie dated a guy once,” the boy explained. “It didn't end well.”

 

“It didn't start well either.” Dongwook sighed, running his hands through his hair.

 

If he was being honest with himself, Jiyong would be jealous of anyone or anything that stole Seunghyun away from him. It was petty and selfish but he wouldn't deny that it was the truth. He even harbored some envy towards the obvious affection in their banter, the evidence of years spent making fun of one another. Years spent growing up together. He wanted that too. The brunette eased into the chair beside him, fingers lifting to caress the back of his neck, and ducked his head to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. Jiyong's eyes closed and he smiled.

 

“You're both so cute I'm gonna vomit.”

 

“Shut up, Dongwook.”

 

“If you're gonna sit here being all lovey-dovey and shit, I think I'll take my leave.” The older boy stood.

 

“But I just made you french press, you ungrateful bastard.”

 

“Dude, you drink enough coffee to fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool. I think you can handle a second cup all on your lonesome.” Dongwook leaned down to give the brunette a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

 

Seunghyun nodded and took hold of Jiyong's hand, grinning at him as he responded.

 

“I think I'll be okay.”

 

“Fuck, you guys are revolting.” Dongwook gripped Jiyong's shoulder, squeezing it gently in farewell. “Keep this jerk out of trouble, all right?”

 

There was genuine concern half-hidden in the older boy's eyes and he felt regret for being such a pigheaded prick. Dipping his head, he clutched Seunghyun's hand a bit tighter.

 

“I will.”

 

“Good. I'll see you around, man.”

 

And with a final wave, Dongwook disappeared, the sound of his car starting outside replacing their silence. Only when the noise of the engine had faded completely did Seunghyun let his shoulders slump and his grin fade. Jiyong had suspected he was overcompensating for something. He wasn't sure he liked being right. Drinking from his cup, he stared down at their clasped hands and rubbed his thumb along protruding knuckles.

 

“You look like shit,” he muttered, lifting those knuckles to his lips.

 

“Thank you.” Seunghyun smirked.

 

“Come with me.” Jiyong rose from the table, his marshmallow in tow.

 

“Where are you taking me?”

 

“No questions, just follow me.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Seunghyun replied with a huff.

 

 

*

 

 

The bathwater was cooling but Jiyong didn't want to break the peaceful hush that had coiled around them. He held Seunghyun to his chest, the boy's head resting on his shoulder, his eyes closed and his features soft. Jiyong's fingers stroked dampened locks of hair from wet skin. Thoughts of the boy's father flitted through his head, anxiety mixing with fear. He didn't want to push Seunghyun to talk about it. He knew that their relationship was strained. Messy, like most families. But when a life hung in the balance, it was difficult to hold on to resentment and the memories of harshly spoken words. He couldn't even begin to fathom how he would feel were their situation reversed. He had never known death, intimately or otherwise. Seunghyun was strong, but he wondered if this accident would change him in some way. Acknowledging the fact that the ones you loved were human, that they had flaws and they weren't indestructible, was not an easy pill to swallow. Sometimes it made you too careful. Or prevented you from stepping outside of the safety of a life that lacked direction. He might not have known death, but he knew that. An easy existence on an endless loop. Jiyong reached out and slid his hand over Seunghyun's, thighs clamping more securely around his precious cargo.

 

“Do you ever get tired of not giving a shit?” Seunghyun's voice was rough from disuse, they'd been sitting there for so long.

 

“Sure.” He sighed, lacing their fingers together. “All the time.”

 

“But you never do anything about it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It used to be lack of motivation.”

 

“And now?”

 

“I guess I'm waiting for the right moment.”

 

Seunghyun shifted, disrupting the water in the tub as he leaned to the side to look at him directly, eyes curious and warm.

 

“The right moment for what?”

 

“For change.”

 

Something flickered in the boy's dark gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Awe, determination, love. Perhaps all of them combined. Jiyong sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, mustering the courage to finally say what Seunghyun surely already knew but had yet to be said aloud. He inhaled deeply through his nose. The words were necessary, for both of them. It had never been more important.

 

“You should know that I love you. More than you could ever imagine.” Jiyong smiled, forcing himself not to get choked up. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner and that I couldn't say it back after you said the same to me. But I'm saying it now and I hope that it's enough.”

 

“You never needed to,” Seunghyun murmured, cupping his face. “I always knew.”

 

“Still. I wanted to.” Jiyong hugged him close, his heart pounding so fiercely in his breast.

 

He brushed his lips against the boy's forehead. “I love you.”

 

And again, along the bridge of his nose. “I love you.”

 

And again, over each eyelid. “I love you.”

 

And finally, at the corner of his mouth, whispering, “I love you, without end.”

 

Releasing a strangled gasp, Seunghyun surged forward, kissing him with so much force the water splashed and spilled over the edges of the tub. Their limbs tangled, knees and elbows knocking against the ceramic basin but neither of them cared. Jiyong dug his fingers into the flesh of Seunghyun's back, his body arching into the contact until not even a single breath of air remained between them. The boy moaned and rocked his hips, eliciting a tumult of sensation and need and an all-encompassing euphoria. His replying whimper tumbled over a slick tongue and died in the back of Seunghyun's throat. They ended up on their sides, wrapped around one another like wild grape vines, partially submerged in lukewarm bathwater. Jiyong broke away first, face buried in the boy's shoulder.

 

“We probably shouldn't be doing this in the bathtub.”

 

“I couldn't help myself.” Seunghyun's chuckle vibrated through him and he trembled. “And you started it.”

 

“And now we are, in fact, giant white raisins.” Jiyong lifted his hand, inspecting the puckered skin of his fingertips and his palm.

 

“It would be so easy to stay, though,” the boy hummed, dragging soft lips over his neck. “Even if we are all shriveled and gross.”

 

“Your bed would be a thousand times more comfortable.”

 

“You win.”

 

As they tumbled out of the tub, feet slipping and water sloshing, Jiyong decided that he didn't need to be scared of what tomorrow would bring. Or the day after. And the one after that. Seunghyun's love had ensured this. Would forever ensure this. Their shared laughter echoed against the tiled walls and collected in his chest. Nothing was perfect, but he couldn't remember ever having been this happy before in his entire life. The change they needed would come. And when it did, he would be more than ready.

 


	12. Now, Voyager

 

“Did you remember the road map?” Jiyong sighed, sensing his anxiety rising to unmanageable levels.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And your phone?”

 

“In my pocket.”

 

“What about the car registration, you put it in the glove-box right?”

 

Seunghyun pressed a hand to the center of Jiyong's chest, flattening him against the side of their newly acquired vehicle. It had actually been Dongwook's. The thing was a useless hunk of metal on wheels, but at least now it was  _their_  useless hunk of metal. He foresaw endless hours spent evaporating into nothing underneath the hot sun, stranded on the side of the road because the piece of shit had decided to stop functioning as it was meant to. Jiyong supposed that was the unique charm of roadtrips. Adventure. Unpredictability. Triple A. He peered up at Seunghyun, the boy's face a terrifying combination of exasperated and adoring.

 

“Ji, we're gonna be fine.”

 

Long fingers cupped the sides of his neck as Seunghyun nuzzled at his nose, foreheads locked together and hips flush. He couldn't seem to take enough air into his lungs as he breathed, trying to calm his agitated heart and focus on the solid presence of the only thing that would ever anchor him. Jiyong offered the boy a tight-lipped smile.

 

“I know. I'm sorry.” He arched into the line of Seunghyun's body, desperate for more weight and warmth and peace of mind.

 

“No apologies.” The boy stroked his hair, caressed his cheek. “Just relax. Save the stress for when we inevitably get lost in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cornfields and cattle.”

 

Jiyong chuckled and tilted his chin just so, catching soft lips in a languid kiss. Seunghyun hummed, pleased, and chased the heat of his mouth with tongue and teeth. The anxiety melted from his body like the snow had melted with the coming of Spring. Arms wound tight around the boy's waist, he broke away, head falling to rest on the roof of the car.

 

“You're right, I'm being a baby.”

 

Leaning forward, Seunghyun brought his lips to Jiyong's ear, the supple flesh tickling his skin. He shivered.

 

“You have nothing to be afraid of, Jiyong.” The boy lifted him from the car and held him close. “Whatever it is that's waiting for us, we'll find it together.”

 

His chest constricted and swelled, the overwhelming love he had for this one person threatening to drown him in its potency. Even after all this time, he still didn't know what he'd done to deserve such utter devotion. It was almost too much for him to process, so he had just stopped thinking about it altogether and let himself bask instead of over-analyze.

 

“Stupid marshmallow,” he muttered into the boy's neck, blinking back the sting of tears.

 

“What did you call me?” Seunghyun laughed.

 

Smirking, Jiyong rubbed at his eyes, cheeks turning bright red without his consent.

 

“I called you a marshmallow.”

 

“How come you're allowed to have secret pet names and I get yelled at for referring to you as “little dragon”?” The boy pulled away, trying to frown despite his obvious amusement.

 

“Because I'm not little,” Jiyong murmured, eyebrow raised.

 

“Shameless perv.” Seunghyun shoved him, rolling his eyes and fighting his broad grin.

 

“Come on, this  _little_  dragon is gonna lose his mind if we don't go.”

 

With a loud snort, Seunghyun looped an arm around his neck, kissing his forehead before pushing him towards the driver's side door. Jiyong took a deep breath, watching as the boy walked around the car. They were really doing this. Really leaving behind the life they'd built here to seek out a new one. He didn't know if they were crazy or stupid or both, but The Marshmallow's cheesy sentiment had been the reassurance he needed. It didn't matter where they ended up, so long as they had each other. Because home wasn't a place. Home was Seunghyun. Home was...them.

 

The boy paused, fingers gripping the door handle as he gazed at Jiyong. He could sense another eye roll coming.

 

“Will you just get in the fucking car already?”

 

Laughing, he stuck his tongue out at Seunghyun and finally crawled into his seat, shutting the door behind him.

 

 

*

 

 

How had six months disappeared so quickly? It seemed like just yesterday that they had been stumbling to put the pieces of their lives together until they formed any kind of cohesive sense. Not that they themselves didn't make sense, it was everything else that had lacked rhyme and reason. After the accident, when Seunghyun's father had been laid out on a hospital bed for days on end, something really had changed. Some new found urgency to move forward had taken hold of them both. To defy routine. To defy apathy. To defy the absence of expectation. And in that urgency, an unspoken plan had been written out, exchanged between their whispering hearts as the trees shed the last of their leaves and succumbed to the bitter frost of winter.

 

Seunghyun's father had recovered, but Seunghyun's disappointment in himself had only intensified. The boy had tried to hide it at first, had tried to pretend that he was okay and that no, he didn't really think he was a failure. Though Jiyong knew better. So he'd said goodbye to his tiny apartment and moved into the familiar, one-bedroom haven hidden atop The Atomic Cafe. In the beginning, it had been out of love and a desire to be present for Seunghyun. To be there for him in all the ways that he was capable of being. But then they had realized something one night, tangled together on the couch as the sun set and cast the living room into dusky shadow. Jiyong remembered the feeling of Seunghyun's breath on the nape of his neck as they languished on the cushions, the boy's arms clamped tight around his shoulders, neither of them moving to go turn on a light when the shadows deepened.

 

_“What if we left?” Jiyong whispered, eyelids growing heavy and limbs leaden._

 

_At first he thought he'd spoken too softly because Seunghyun remained quiet for a long while before shifting against him, knee sliding between his legs from behind._

 

_“What do you mean?” The boy's voice rumbled against his back._

 

_“I mean, what if we moved somewhere else? Hit the reset button. Stopped wallowing in our mutual lack of motivation.”_

 

_Seunghyun nosed into his hair, bare feet sliding against his bare ankles. The boy sighed._

 

_“But where would we go?”_

 

_“Anywhere.”_

 

_The concept of “anywhere” lingered in the darkness. It was a big question. A big step for both of them. His mind swirled with possibilities._

 

_“I don't know.”_

 

_“Think about it.” Jiyong grasped one of the boy's hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing each knuckle. “I'm serious.”_

 

_“I will.”_

 

They'd fallen asleep like that, Seunghyun dropping off just before he did. At the time he hadn't been sure if his proposition had really sunk in. Or if the boy even wanted to leave the safety of the bubble he knew. But sometimes it took a while for things to take root. For someone to give themselves permission to be truly happy. A week later, Seunghyun's smiling face had greeted him after he'd come home from the supermarket, the words “let's do it” excitedly spilling from his lips. Jiyong remembered the giddy joy that had consumed him and how, in one moment, everything was suddenly different.

 

Their days and nights had turned into a blur of endless espresso shots and the worn pillows of Seunghyun's bed. When Jiyong had moved into the boy's apartment, the idea of saving money hadn't really been a factor, but then it became all they thought about. Working double shifts from open to close, staying up all night doing inventory. They had practically run the cafe by themselves for months. Anything to crawl closer to their goal of getting the fuck out of there and never looking back. They didn't care that they were wearing themselves thin, both physically and mentally, because their exhaustion had  _meant_  something. It was theirs. And in an odd way it had felt good. To have earned the ache in their muscles because they actually cared about why they were working. The winter weather had given them even more of an excuse to never leave the building and they had gladly spent what few hours of freedom they could steal curled up under the covers.

 

_“Have you ever thought about growing old?” Seunghyun's question interrupted his tired trance._

 

_Jiyong burrowed further under the comforter, cheek pressed into the boy's chest. Fingers wandering over the warm cotton fabric of Seunghyun's t-shirt, he propped his chin on the hard ridges of his ribcage and struggled to keep his eyes open._

 

_“Yeah. Why?”_

 

_“Because I want to be there to see this turn gray.” The boy smiled, hand ruffling the strands of brown hair on his head._

 

_His breath hitched at that. At the silent promise of forever. He stopped his fingers from wandering and sought out Seunghyun's larger ones, lacing them together._

 

_“I want to see the lines of our life written on your face,” Jiyong murmured, watching the boy's eyes glisten and shine._

 

_Rolling over until he engulfed Jiyong with the solid weight of his body, Seunghyun yanked the comforter over their heads, creating a barrier between them and the rest of the world. He studied the expression on the other boy's face and felt his throat tighten. So much love. There was always so much love._

 

_“I can't think of anything better than a lifetime of you,” Seunghyun whispered._

 

_The tightness in his throat got worse and Jiyong swallowed around the knot of “I love yous”, reaching up to trace his fingertips along thick eyebrows and the bridge of the boy's nose. He sunk his teeth into the softness of his bottom lip as one, then two and three, tears slid from the corners of his eyes. Seunghyun leaned in and kissed the salty moisture from his skin with so much tenderness it only made the tears fall harder._

 

 

More than anything, Jiyong remembered the shock of seeing the first few brave, green buds on the trees outside of the coffee shop. Their appearance had been equal parts blessing and curse because it meant that their time was almost up. That the world was waiting. He'd almost had a panic attack thinking about it. The only other time he'd ever felt that way was right before he left for college. Chicago had been good for him, though. And he'd known that this would be too. Though this knowledge had never prevented the constant swarm of butterflies and the subsequent nausea from ruling his everyday existence.

 

Jiyong and Seunghyun had given their two weeks notice at the beginning of March; the bittersweet taste of abandoning a place he cherished still fresh on his tongue. They weren't hauling all of their possessions with them because it would have been madness. They didn't even know where they were going, how could they box up everything they owned in the hopes that what they were looking for (or not looking for) would magically fall into their laps? Luckily, Lauren was between apartments and she had yet to commit to anything when Jiyong had run the idea by her in February. She'd promised to look after Seunghyun's beloved library of books and told them she'd try and keep everything the way it was in case they decided to return for good, instead of just to pick up all of their shit and take off again. He'd hugged her pretty hard after that.

 

Contrary to what he'd been expecting, saying goodbye to Jess didn't cause him any pain. It was his turn to walk down an unmarked road without knowing where it lead and she understood that better than anyone else he knew. She'd been the pioneer anyway. Had practically written the handbook on being young and stupid and staying alive long enough to tell the tale. Jiyong received a punch on the arm and kiss on the cheek as his farewell gifts. He still had the bruise to prove it, too.

 

He hadn't been around when Seunghyun parted ways with Dongwook, which was probably for the better. Not that he didn't trust either of them, but the last thing he needed to see was his boyfriend hanging all over another guy before embarking on a potentially perilous journey. And Jiyong had let himself be a bit dramatic about that because it was better than becoming catatonic with the overpowering cruelty of “what if...”. His entire universe had become “what if...” and finally he'd jumped the hurdle of the point of no return. Getting in the car.

 

Now that they were on the road, heading west along I-90, he could let go of the anxiety and be lulled by the infinite stretch of asphalt ahead of him. By the rolling hills and the ocean of trees. Seunghyun's hand was resting on his thigh, the edge of his thumb brushing back and forth in slow strokes. The stereo hummed with the low tones of some song Jiyong had never heard but he didn't mind because the boy was humming along.

 

“How come you never really sing for me?”

 

“You never asked,” Seunghyun chuckled, squeezing his leg.

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Does the little dragon want his marshmallow to sing for him?”

 

He blushed and kept his gaze on the road, fingers gripping the steering wheel a little more firmly.

 

“Yes,” he mumbled. “But save it for later.”

 

Seunghyun's answering smile caught his attention and he felt his insides liquefy as he glanced over at the bright-eyed fool. Jiyong sighed. They weren't even an hour away from where they'd started and already he knew, with every bone in his body, that this would be the most ridiculous experience of his life. But it would also be the most needed. The most adored. And the most important. Which was more than okay with him.

 

Grinning to himself, he turned the stereo up and placed his fingers over Seunghyun's hand.

 

*

 

Their first stop was the forever under-appreciated metropolis of Chicago. Seunghyun had never been and Jiyong hadn't returned since he'd moved back East. He'd spent four of his most formative years wandering the streets of this city, learning its history and loving its spirit. The aging facades of those towering buildings and the cracked pavement underneath the elevated subway tracks were forever a part of the home he'd stitched together in his heart. Little details from all the places he'd ever lived. Jiyong didn't realize how much he'd missed it until the skyline emerged in the distance through the industrial wasteland of Western Indiana, like an ancient king that had yet to crumble beneath the weight of the world as it shifted around him. Still tall, still proud, and veins still buzzing with the brilliance of life. It had been a year already. He wondered what new treasures he would find lurking under its thick skin.

 

Watching Seunghyun take everything in as they rode the brown line through the center of the city made the butterflies stir with happiness instead of anxiety. It had been too long a time since he'd had the opportunity to share something that was _his_  with someone else. Especially someone as important to him as Seunghyun was. Jiyong smiled, loving the awed glimmer in the boy's dark eyes when they crossed over the river that cut through downtown like a deep blue ribbon.

 

“And why did you leave again?”

 

He laughed, wrapping an arm around Seunghyun and pressing closer to the window. Late afternoon sunlight transformed the gray concrete and steel monsters into columns of fire. It was his favorite time of day for this reason alone.

 

“Because I missed the ocean.”

 

“Lake Michigan wasn't big enough for you?” The boy smirked and Jiyong poked him in the side.

 

“Shut up, the coast is different.”

 

The train paused at the Chicago Avenue station to release passengers and let on new ones. He wasn't even really taking them anywhere in particular. Sometimes he just liked hopping on the El and allowing it to spit him out somewhere he wasn't expecting to be. Just as he wasn't expecting to find himself sitting next to the love of his life, heading towards a future he didn't know he was even dreaming of. Seunghyun uncrossed his legs, his thigh molding itself to Jiyong's. A familiar rush of heat swept over him.

 

“Thank you,” the boy said, taking his hand.

 

“For what?”

 

“For everything.”

 

Seunghyun's fingers squeezed his and Jiyong leaned into the boy's shoulder, mentally threading this new memory in with the old, the tapestry of his personal history growing richer with each revolution of the train's wheels below them.

 

 

*

 

Though it had been nice to revisit his old haunts, to show Seunghyun parts of himself through the lens of Chicago's gritty charm, Jiyong was eager to keep moving. It was too easy for him to find new reasons to stay and forget the reasons why he left. So they piled back into the car and traveled further into the depths of the vast Midwest. Night fell swiftly over the Nebraska plains and he yawned, head resting against the window as he watched the headlights from oncoming traffic flash by in streaks of yellow and white.

 

“Are we stopping soon?” Jiyong yawned again.

 

“Yeah, just a few more miles. There's a Super 8 at the next exit.”

 

He nodded, eyelids drifting to a close before the boy had even finished speaking.

 

Next thing he knew he was being jostled awake by a gentle hand, Seunghyun's smiling face greeting him from the open passenger side door.

 

“Should I carry you or are you gonna be okay to walk on your own?”

 

Jiyong glared at him, unfolding tired limbs from the car and scrubbing at his tired face.

 

“Don't be cute.”

 

“But I'm always cute.”

 

He had started to laugh but it turned into another yawn half-way through and then he groaned.

 

“Sorry, I'm just so exhausted.”

 

“I know, sitting in a car for nine hours is really hard work.”

 

Smacking Seunghyun in the arm, he shut the door and they collected their bags from the backseat. After locking the car, the boy grabbed his wrist and lead him to the metal staircase on the side of the building.

 

“I booked the room while you were asleep,” Seunghyun explained when he shot him a confused look.

 

Jiyong was so out of it. He felt bad for giving him attitude, but honestly if the boy hadn't grown used to his occasional grumpiness by now then they were officially a lost cause. As soon as they entered the motel room, he set his duffel bag on the floor and dropped like a dead weight onto the queen-sized bed. Seunghyun followed, curling around him and propping his chin on his shoulder.

 

“I'm gonna take a shower. You can join me or you can keep doing what you're doing, which I'm going to assume is passing out in about...thirty seconds, give or take.”

 

A shower sounded divine, though Jiyong doubted his ability to open his eyes, let alone rise from the bed and shuffle into the bathroom where he'd have to stand upright for a prolonged period of time.

 

“Uh-huh,” he sighed. “Will you take my shoes off on your way? Please.”

 

“Yes, little dragon.”

 

“I  _will_  kill you.”

 

Seunghyun's nose rubbed against his cheek, lips briefly making contact in an affectionate kiss.

 

“I don't believe you,” the boy whispered and drew back, mattress dipping as he left the bed.

 

“Watch me,” Jiyong yawned yet again.

 

Wriggling his toes after his shoes were removed, Jiyong started to roll over onto his side when he felt his socks being peeled off. Then there were hands at his belt and the zipper of his jeans and he opened his mouth to protest but was promptly shut down.

 

“Shhh.” Seunghyun slid his fingers into the waistband of his pants. “Lift your hips.”

 

He complied, the tight material yanked over his thighs and his calves. The boy looked down at Jiyong with a tiny, amused smirk and he blushed, having totally forgotten that he was wearing The Marshmallow's favorite pair of boxer-briefs.

 

“If I didn't already love you to the moon and back, this would have probably sealed the deal.” Seunghyun chuckled and draped the jeans over the chair by the door.

 

“It's the only pair of underwear I like,” Jiyong mumbled in his defense.

 

The boy merely rolled his eyes and knelt on the edge of the mattress, fingers skimming under his t-shirt and along the softness of his stomach. He gasped, body reacting readily to Seunghyun's caresses despite his fatigue. He could probably be on his deathbed and the boy would still be able to give him an instant hard-on.

 

“Arms.”

 

Jiyong dragged his arms up above his head, his shirt gliding over his shoulders as Seunghyun removed it. Bending low, the boy pressed another affectionate kiss to the tender flesh of his bicep, nuzzling at the inside of his elbow. His heart skipped a beat. All the ways in which he was shown love, in small gestures and lingering touches, never failed to leave him breathless. Seunghyun helped him maneuver under the covers and he had the sudden desire to cry.

 

“Why are you so good to me?”

 

“Because I adore you.” The boy bestowed a final, lingering kiss to his brow. “Now go to sleep.”

 

If not for the fact that Jiyong's hands were trapped underneath two layers of blankets, he would have tugged Seunghyun close for more lovely, sweet-lipped kisses. Endless kisses. He turned onto his side, mouth curving in a lazy smile. Forever kisses. Always kisses. Every last one of them belonged to him. Jiyong hovered there, on the brink of unconsciousness, for almost half an hour, not slipping into deep slumber until he felt the bed dip. Until he felt slightly damp legs tangle with his and inhaled the fresh scent of soap into his lungs. Until an arm carefully coiled around his waist and he was nestled against a firm chest. Until Seunghyun's face pressed into his hair.

 

Only then, did he find sleep.

 

 

*

 

 

“Boulder or Seattle?” Seunghyun asked, road map splayed out over his lap where he sat in the passenger seat.

 

That was a good question. They hadn't decided yet, still parked in the empty lot of the Super 8. It didn't really matter though, did it? “Anywhere” echoed in his thoughts. There were so many possibilities.

 

“Flip a coin.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, why not? Heads for Seattle, tails for Boulder.”

 

Seunghyun's short laugh filled the enclosed space of the car and he sighed, digging into his pocket for a quarter. The boy balanced it over his thumb and forefinger, gazing at Jiyong with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Little dragon is always ready.”

 

“Stop making me laugh, you idiot.” Seunghyun grinned, almost dropping the coin.

 

“Just flip the damn thing.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Jiyong watched the tarnished quarter spin in the air and disappear into the boy's fist. He held his breath as he waited for those long fingers to unfurl, revealing their fate.

 

“Heads.” Seunghyun nodded decisively. “Looks like we're going to Seattle.”

 

Breathing out, he loosened his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Were you nervous?”

 

“What?” He scoffed. “No, of course not.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“Little dragon wants his marshmallow to tell him where to go and then shut the hell up.”

 

“Marshmallow says continue West on I-80 until we hit Wyoming.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You're welcome.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I know.”

 

And so they went, snaking their way towards the Pacific Ocean, further and further from everything they once knew.

 

 

*

 

 

The wild landscape of the Pacific Northwest was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Driving into Washington from Montana had been beyond beautiful; farmlands bleeding into lush forests and Mt. Rainier looming, hazy and snow-capped, in the distance. They'd only been in the city itself for five days and already he was completely enamored. Seattle had a lot of character for being so young. It was unique. Quirky. Jiyong felt like they were gradually uncovering some hidden kingdom, finding things to be excited about with every neighborhood that they explored. And it was comfortable, being there. He wasn't overwhelmed.

 

They'd been blessed by the presence of the sun since they arrived, both of them trying not to anticipate Seattle's customary shroud of gray in case it sent the sunshine packing. So they were making the most of it while it lasted, spending all of their time outside wandering around and getting lost, finding themselves and then getting lost again. Currently they were lounging on the large, grassy hill in Gas Works Park, Seunghyun's arms dangling over Jiyong's bent legs, the boy's head resting against his shoulder. He squinted out over Lake Union, observing the slow passage of sailboats along the glittering water. The Space Needle looked like it was about the size of a toothpick and the thought made him smile. His arms circled the boy's neck as he leaned down to speak into his ear.

 

“We could stay here,” he murmured.

 

“We could.” Seunghyun tipped his head to the side. “But what about all the other cities we haven't visited yet?'

 

“Then we could come back?”

 

“If that's what you really want, yeah.”

 

“I want it to be what you want too. No more settling.”

 

“Jiyong, I want whatever you want.”

 

“I want this moment to last forever.”

 

The boy stared at him, cheshire grin blooming on his face as he expelled a long-suffering sigh.

 

“C'mere, you cheesy little shit.”

 

Seunghyun reached up to curl his fingers around Jiyong's neck, pulling him down to capture his lips. An unexpected moan vibrated in his throat as the boy's tongue slid into his mouth, warm and teasing. God, he really wanted this feeling forever. This quiet, all-encompassing joy right there in the center of his heart. He didn't even give a shit if anyone was watching. The slow press of their lips would never not be perfect. The depth of his affections would never not be a bottomless well. Always. Always and without end.

 

“Takes one to know one,” Jiyong spoke softly, smiling. “And you love it.”

 

“I really, really do.”

 

Nestling further into the curve of his body, Seunghyun's head returned to its resting place on his shoulder. Touch trailing across the boy's chest, Jiyong found his hands, palm melting against palm. He imagined leaving behind a small piece of himself there, to leave his own mark as the city would surely mark him. As the experience would mark him.

 

“So where do we go after this?”

 

“I don't know.” Seunghyun tangled their fingers tighter. “So stop thinking so much....

 

 

 

“... _We'll figure it out._ ”

 

 


End file.
